


Undivided

by AmandaRex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Erotica, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-28
Updated: 2007-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-26 10:49:43
Rating: ExplicitMature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 69,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmandaRex/pseuds/AmandaRex
Summary: A continuation of the events from "Unspoken". Though Hermione and Lupin have been rescued, there is still the matter of discovering which Auror has betrayed the Order, working undercover for Voldemort. Their search for the identity of the mole will set Harry and his friends down a path that will lead to either Harry's destruction, or Voldemort's. The time for the final battle is approaching, and they all must come together to protect each other. HP/GW, R/Hr. Follows canon to OotP, then AU.





	1. A Look Back

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

**A Look Back**

Harry sat restlessly on the edge of his bed, picking at the frayed edge of his bedcovers. It was three days until his seventeenth birthday, when he could leave the Dursley household and no one would be able to stop him. There would be no more letters from the Ministry about the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and he was free to go anywhere in the wizarding world that he chose.

The only problem was that he wasn't sure where he should go. He would enjoy spending some time at the Burrow with the Weasleys, but he didn't think Mrs. Weasley would be thrilled to hear that he'd left the Dursleys against the advice of both Dumbledore and Lupin. Perhaps he should go to Grimmauld Place first, and figure out where to go from there. After his inheritance from Sirius, anything he'd have to spend for temporary lodgings in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley wouldn't even make a dent in one corner of his Gringotts' vault. That wouldn't be a permanent solution, but it would get him through until he began his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. That was really all he needed for now.

As his thoughts turned to Hogwarts, he reflected on the previous year. His sixth year had provided the first uneventful end of term for Harry. After their rescue of Hermione and Lupin from Bellatrix Lestrange and the destruction of the Tree of Blood in early February, the rest of the year was spent waiting for word from the Order that the traitor within the organization had been identified and caught. Three Aurors and four researches who had been working toward the destruction of the Tree with Hermione were still missing. Even now, all they knew was that one of those seven people was actually working for Voldemort. That person had delivered two of the most important people in Harry's life directly into the hands of one of Voldemort's most powerful Death Eaters, and the long months of making no progress identifying that person made the last few months of school the previous year very stressful for all of them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had worked exhaustively, trying to help Dumbledore and the Order determine who the traitor had been. Hermione had been over and over every detail she could recall from her time on the farm in the French countryside, looking for the slightest clue of duplicity in any of her colleagues. She had come up with nothing, and Harry had never seen her so frustrated. Ron went over every letter Hermione had sent him hundreds of times, watching the hidden messages she'd charmed into the parchment for clues. Ron, too, had found nothing overtly suspicious.

Hermione had finally given up, and poured her energy into further mastery of the message charm, which allowed her to hide detailed messages in a piece of parchment that only the intended recipient of the letter could read. Harry had given up trying to moderate Ron and Hermione's ongoing arguments about this; it was fruitless to get involved in the complicated ballet that was Ron and Hermione's relationship now that they had finally admitted they were in love with each other. Harry knew Ron feared that the Order would send Hermione away again, but Harry felt Ron's worrying was useless. If Dumbledore asked her to help them again, Harry knew Hermione would do it without hesitation. Ron's energy could be better spent trying to do something more useful, but Harry had given up trying to make Ron see reason where Hermione's safety was concerned.

Harry shook his head, knowing he should stop thinking about Ron and Hermione before the familiar headache began in his temples, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He thought back to their biggest row from last term, which happened a few weeks after Madame Pomfrey released Ron and Hermione from the infirmary after their return from France. Ron focused his energy into anger, feeling that the Order was keeping information about their search for the missing Aurors and researchers from them.

"Hermione nearly got killed, Harry. They couldn't have destroyed the Tree without us, and they're still leaving us out!" Ron yelled, pacing around the boys' sixth year dormitory. He, Harry, and Hermione had the room to themselves while everyone else was outside enjoying the beautiful weather and making plans for the next day's Hogsmeade visit. Hermione, naturally, argued against Ron. She felt that if Dumbledore had any information they would at least ask her about it, as she had worked for weeks with all seven people who were missing. Harry eventually tired of listening to the two of them attack each other, and he left them alone to go and spend some time flying high over the Quidditch pitch, alone on his Firebolt.

After Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower, Ron convinced Harry to go with him to Dumbledore's office, hoping to get information he was sure their Headmaster was hiding from them. They tried the last password either of them knew, _Pepper Imps_ , but the spiral staircase steadfastly refused to move. In desperation, Ron dragged Harry to McGonagall's office, insisting that he needed to talk to someone they trusted from the Order. When they entered her office, they talked to her first as a cat, and then as herself after she changed back to her human form.

"I understand how frustrated you boys must be, but I assure you, you know everything Dumbledore knows. We haven't been able to find any trace of the missing witches and wizards who were with Remus and Miss Granger." McGonagall had looked directly at each of them in turn as she told them this, and although her eyes still showed her trademark sternness, Harry saw nothing else within them but honesty.

"So, you're telling us no one knows anything?" Ron asked her, incredulously.

"I am not saying that at all, Mr. Weasley," she answered him, her annoyance beginning to show. "None of the members of the Order have every piece of information at all times, with the exception of Professor Dumbledore." At Ron's look of frustration, her annoyance turned to anger. "I suppose you think it would be better if everyone in the Order was fully informed. What a wonderful idea that would be, Mr. Weasley. It's a shame we didn't do that before we knew there was a traitor in our midst. Perhaps we could have given all of our secrets to Voldemort's spy and we could all be running from Death Eaters now."

Ron had no answer for her, and they took her own silence as a clear dismissal from her office.

"Blimey, Harry. We have to do something," Ron told him, as if just saying it aloud would create something constructive they could do to help the Order. They walked quietly back to the common room, and Harry struggled to hold his tongue. He longed to rail at Ron for making such fools of them both in front of McGonagall.

Ron stomped through the portrait hole, muttering something about wanting to go to bed as he attacked the stairs to the dormitories with his feet. Hermione was nowhere to be found, but he did see someone else as he searched the common room for Hermione.

Ginny sat in the chair by the fireplace, a book in her lap, although it appeared it held very little interest for her. The book was closed, and she had a strip of parchment in her hands, rolled into a spiral that she was pulling on with her fingers.

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked Ginny, and he could feel her hesitance even to speak to him. Perhaps she'd spoken to Hermione after Ron had dragged him from the common room, and Hermione's anger had rubbed off on Ginny.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to ask you where the two of you have been." Ginny asked Harry from her chair by the fireplace.

"We were trying to get information out of Dumbledore or McGonagall," Harry told her. "Don't worry, you still know as much I do."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I don't know how anyone could know as little as I do, Harry," Ginny told him, coldly. Harry felt even more guilty as he remembered what a good friend Ginny had been to him, especially once Ron and Hermione started to spend so much time alone together.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. We should have—"

"No, don't worry about it. It's my own fault. I should stay out of it. That's what you want, isn't it? I don't know what I was—"

"No," he said, laying his hand on her arm and looking directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have included you."

Ginny's eyes fell to her lap. "It's all right, Harry. I understand. I know I'm not…" Ginny trailed off, and Harry wondered what she'd been about to say.

"You know you're not…what, Ginny?"

She smiled sadly at him. "Nothing. I don't know what I was talking about. I'm just tired. I'll see you tomorrow, Harry." She rose, looking quickly at him before she turned to leave him. He was struck by how quickly and gracefully she moved, even for someone as small and agile as she was.

"Ginny," he stopped her, just as she reached the staircase. "Come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow. We're not going to find out anything here. We may as well enjoy ourselves."

"What makes you think I'm not already going with someone?" Ginny asked, without turning around to face him.

"I—of course you are, Ginny. I'm sorry. Forget I—" Harry stammered.

"I'll keep you company, Harry. I don't want you to be alone when Ron and Hermione decide they want to slip away together." Her voice was soft and gentle as she said this, but he could hear an undertone of sadness to it. She turned and gave him the briefest of looks, and her expression was completely unreadable. She began to walk away from him again and he wanted to stop her, but he didn't know what to say. He watched her as she climbed, her shoulders squared and her head held high.

Harry greatly enjoyed their afternoon in Hogsmeade, walking with Ginny around the entire town. They visited every shop and restaurant, skipping only Madam Puddifoot's, which still held some bad memories for Harry. Ginny teased him when they saw a sale table full of Gilderoy Lockheart's books in one shop, asking him if he wanted to pick up any extra copies now that they were such a bargain. She also forced him to wait outside for her when they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, allowing him in after she'd spent twenty minutes inside on her own.

That was a nice day, one of the best in Harry's recent memory. Every day since their day in Hogsmeade, he got a warm feeling whenever he looked at Ginny.

Harry snapped out of his reverie, and found he'd been so involved in his memory of those April afternoons months ago he'd nearly forgotten Uncle Vernon's demand that Harry completely rid Aunt Petunia's rose garden of weeds before they would allow him to eat any dinner that evening.

He glanced at the battered old desk in the corner of his room, and saw a roll of unused parchment sticking out from under a stack of his books. The roses could wait, he decided. He had a letter to write.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ This story is a sequel to Unspoken. I plan to include enough details here that you can follow this story even if you haven't read Unspoken, but you'll understand more of what's going on here if you've read it.


	2. Hedwig's Arrival

Ginny sat on the sofa in the living room of the Burrow, feeling restless. Fred and George were home for a visit, and Ron had joined them outside for a bit of flying. They invited her several times to join them, but to her own surprise, she turned them down. She really didn't feel up to it.

She smiled to herself when she remembered her mum's reaction to that.

"Are you all right, Ginny, dear?" she asked, feeling Ginny's forehead for signs of a fever.

Ginny protested that she was fine, but her mum had spent the better part of the afternoon fussing over her. Ever since Ginny's test scores of 9 OWLs of an A or higher had arrived, her parents had been treating her as if she'd cleaned her room, degnomed the garden, and defeated Voldemort single-handedly, all on the same day. It was really Hermione they should be fawning over, as Ginny's success was largely due to the revision schedule Hermione drew up for her.

A dull thud from the general direction of the kitchen window announced the arrival of Errol, the family's post owl, and Ginny got up to see what their ancient bird had brought them today. She rounded the corner, telling herself there was no reason to hope for a snowy white owl to be outside their window as well.

She stood on tiptoe and peered at the ground below the window, and saw poor old Errol trying to collect himself, pecking at his ruffled feathers and trying to look as dignified as possible. There was a letter tied to his left foot, and Ginny sighed as she pushed the window open.

"Can you make it through now?" she asked. Errol warbled in a slightly disoriented fashion, flapping his way through the opening and landing on the kitchen counter. Ginny had just bent to untie the parchment from his leg when she caught a flash of white feathers out of the corner of her eye.

"Hedwig!" she cried, as Harry's owl perched on her shoulder and nuzzled at her ear. Ginny looked at Hedwig's leg, and saw that two scrolls of parchment tied there, one with Ron's name, but a second one with her name on it. "This calls for owl treats all around, then, doesn't it?"

Ron jerked open the door leading to the backyard, still holding his broom and nearly losing his footing as he came to a halt. He seemed to realize what he looked like and struggled to regain some dignity, running his hands through his hair and leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb.

"I thought I saw an owl," he said, hope shining in his eyes and contradicting the carefree look he'd arranged on the rest of his face. "So, any post for me, then?"

Ginny knew what he was waiting for. Every day since they returned from Hogwarts for the summer was the same. Ron came down for breakfast, and then wandered around restlessly until owls started arriving with the post. If a letter arrived from Hermione, Ginny knew he'd be safe to be around for the rest of the day. On the other days, he mooned around the house like an abandoned puppy and was impossible to deal with.

"You have a letter from Harry. I'm not sure what Errol's brought us. That's all so far."

Ron absentmindedly petted Hedwig and took Harry's letter from Ginny's outstretched hand. He crossed hopefully over to Errol and untied the letter he carried from his leg, and Ginny hoped for all of the other residents of the Burrow that it was a letter from Hermione.

"It's just for Dad." Ron turned and left the kitchen, his shoulders slumped sadly forward.

Ginny rolled her eyes. It was going to be one of those days. She looked down at her own letter, and felt a surge of happiness despite herself. She told herself again and again that she and Harry were just friends, and that it was long past time for her silly schoolgirl's crush to end. She knew Harry as a person now, not just a figure in a bedtime story told to her by her Mum before she was old enough to understand that he really even existed at all. She had to take him down from the pedestal she'd put him on and try to accept who he was in reality.

Even if she was just a stand-in for Ron and Hermione, someone for him to walk around Hogsmeade with while Ron and Hermione kissed or rowed or did whatever it was they did when they were alone together, they still had some very nice afternoons in each other's company. She knew she was a second choice in Harry's life, and she wondered if that could ever be enough for her.

She thought back to the day Harry and Ron had disappeared last year, returning with Hermione and Lupin and yet another set of secrets for just the three of them. After she'd helped him at the Department of Mysteries at the end of her fourth year when Harry had led them there to save Sirius, she thought they considered her someone who could be trusted, who could help them. Then, last year, they left her out completely. Harry and her brother hadn't even tried to find her before they set off to rescue Hermione.

They had protested to her repeatedly that they didn't have the opportunity. After receiving Hermione's last message giving them the final clue they needed in order to find her, they had left with Dumbledore straight away. Ginny accepted their explanation just to end the argument, but she didn't really believe it.

She felt the beginning of a familiar thought, and tried unsuccessfully to push it away. She shut her eyes, but the ideas sped through her mind before she could stop them. Ginny had proven back in her first year that Voldemort could manipulate her. Everything Ginny knew of Harry's encounters with the dark wizard showed how strong Harry was, how he'd fought even when it appeared there was no hope of winning or escaping. In contrast, Ginny had written a few words in a diary and then allowed herself to be manipulated into unleashing a deadly monster on everyone at Hogwarts.

She saw herself, younger and smaller, in her mind's eye, sneaking into the infirmary to see Justin, Colin, and Hermione there, cold and unmoving as statues. How had Hermione ever forgiven her when Ginny had nearly gotten her killed?

Ginny looked down at the piece of parchment in her hands, and studied Harry's careful handwriting. Her index finger trailed over the shapes that made up her name, and she pictured him sitting far away, scrawling them on the rolled-up letter before sending it away with Hedwig.

He had so much weighing down on him. He carried the hopes of the entire wizarding world on his shoulders, and their community usually thanked him with ridiculous, untrue stories written about him in the Daily Prophet. Why should he trust the one person he knew hadn't been able to resist Voldemort's powers?

She unrolled the parchment and read the first few lines, which asked her to read the letter while she was alone and then dispose of it after she'd finished with it. Her eyebrows arched, but she rolled up her letter and took it with her up to her room. She sprinted up the stairs, closing the door behind her, and breathlessly began to read again. She skipped past the first few sentences and picked up where she'd left off.

_I'm telling you something now that I've only told one other person. My birthday is in two days, and I'll finally be of age. As soon as I can legally do magic outside of Hogwarts, I'm leaving. I can't tell you anything more here, but if you think about where Snuffles' doghouse was, you might be able to figure it out. Hedwig hates flying in and out of there, so I may not be writing as much. Don't worry if you don't hear from me. I've sent a letter for Ron as well. Make sure he reads it. I know it's not as good as the letters he gets from Hermione, but hopefully he'll read it anyway. If he asks you if you know why I won't be writing, please don't tell him. He'll only try to stop me, and I have to do this._

_I miss you all, and I'm looking forward to the beginning of term. Maybe we can all go to buy our books together. I'll get a message to you later in the summer._

_Harry_

She dropped the letter, her mind whirling with all of the new information Harry had just given her. Harry obviously intended to travel alone to Grimmauld Place, and Ginny had a terrible feeling that he could be in danger.

Perhaps she should tell Mum and Dad. They, at least, could provide some sort of guard from the Order to get him to Grimmauld Place. On the other hand, Harry had taken her into his confidence, and he might never do so again if she betrayed him. He would be seventeen, after all, and he was capable of making his own decisions. She knew from watching him fight that he could take care of himself, perhaps as well as any Auror they could send to defend him.

She put the parchment down and pointed her wand at it. " _Incendio,_ " she chanted, and the letter began to burn. She watched it as it turned to ash, trying to calm the nervousness in her stomach. She realized a moment too late that this would net her a warning letter from the Ministry, but the thought of Harry putting himself in danger dulled any other concerns she had.


	3. A Private Talk with Petunia

Harry took the last three books from his desk and dropped them into his trunk, then took a long, slow look around his bedroom. He wanted to make sure he packed everything, or at least that he wouldn't leave anything important behind. Once he left Vernon Dursley's house the next morning, he wanted to know he'd never have to return there.

"So, girl," he said, offering Hedwig an owl treat, "do you think you'll miss anything about this house?" Hedwig hooted indignantly at his question, and his heart rose again at the idea that he would soon be gone from this place. His owl still looked tired, as she had only recently returned from delivering his letters to Lupin, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, and he opened the door to her cage so he could scratch the side of her face.

Only Ginny and Lupin had written back so far, probably because he gave them information he'd withheld from Ron and Hermione. It had been a calculated risk to trust Lupin and Ginny with his intentions to leave the Dursley's, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. He knew why he'd confessed the whole truth to Lupin; he knew his father's best friend would stop him if it really was a disastrous idea.

What he didn't understand was why he had told Ginny. He wrote the words to her before he could stop himself, and tied the letter to Hedwig's leg before he could take it back. He wondered if it was guilt. He'd left her out so many times, maybe this was his way of evening the score and including her in something Ron and Hermione didn't even know.

Deep down, he knew that wasn't it. Even when faced with a blank sheet of parchment, he simply didn't want to hold anything back from her. He knew she would worry and that he may not be able to get word to her right away that he was safe after his journey, but he still wanted her to know the truth.

He unrolled Ginny's response to read it again, though he knew the words would be the same as the last dozen times he'd looked at it.

_Harry,_

_Are you sure this is wise? It's just a few weeks. Maybe you should wait._

_Either way, get word out to us. You know Ron will worry if he doesn't hear from you. I suppose I will as well. Who will I spend my Hogsmeade visits with if something happens to you? If you leave me with Ron and Hermione, I'll probably end up hexing them both._

_Be careful. We love you._

_Ginny_

He stared at her last sentence until the words and letters lost their shape and became meaningless lines of ink. He knew the Weasleys loved him and cared about him like he was a part of their own family. That must be how she meant it.

She'd once had a crush on him, of course, but Hermione had told him she'd long since recovered from that. Ginny didn't act the way Cho had when Cho had been trying to get Harry to ask her on a date. Harry and Ginny didn't fight the way Ron and Hermione did. Harry wasn't sure how either of them would act if they were falling for each other, but it couldn't be like this.

Could it?

Harry was beginning to get a headache that had nothing whatsoever to do with his scar, and he deliberately turned his thoughts elsewhere. He dropped Ginny's letter in his trunk and retrieved Lupin's, opening it and considering his old Professor's words again.

_Harry,_

_I don't think you need me to tell you how reckless your plan is. I can't say I'm surprised, as you seem to take after James more and more every day and this is exactly the kind of thing he would have done. I also know that you have a bit more sense than your father or I had at your age, so I have hope that you will be careful and smart in the way you go about things._

_I need you to do one thing for me, Harry. Before you begin, I want you to speak with your Aunt Petunia, privately. I don't care what you have to say or do to get her to say it, Harry, but she needs to tell you that you will always be welcome in her home. I know it won't be easy, but if you continue with your plan without doing so, I cannot stress enough how potentially dangerous it could be for you._

_Remus_

He knew it had something to do with the protection his mother had given him when she'd sacrificed herself for him. He needed to be able to call this terrible place a 'home' or he would be more vulnerable to Voldemort. Harry sighed, and knew he couldn't put it off any longer. His aunt and uncle would soon be going to bed, and time was running short for Harry to do as Lupin had asked him.

He quietly opened his bedroom door and slipped into the hallway, trying not to attract Dudley's attention. Harry was trying to behave like the adult the wizarding world would consider him to be very soon, and that would be easier to do if he avoided a confrontation with his oversized cousin.

He reached the sitting room downstairs, and saw his uncle propped in an uncomfortable chair, reading the paper. Aunt Petunia sat on the edge of their flowered sofa, her glasses perched unattractively on the end of her nose, squinting at the book held out by her stiffened arms.

A floorboard creaked under Harry's feet as he shifted his weight in a moment of indecision. It instantly attracted the attention of his uncle, who regarded him as if he were a bug that had snuck in from the garden.

"What are you doing up, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"I need to talk to Aunt Petunia," he said defiantly, trying to keep any hint of nervousness from his voice. Uncle Vernon's answer was a bark of ugly laughter, causing Harry to shrink away in spite of himself.

"You just listen here. If you think I'm going to leave you alone with my wife you have another—"

"Oh, it's all right, Vernon. He probably won't shut up until he's said his piece." Harry watched his uncle's face swell and turn red with repressed anger, but his aunt didn't seem to notice. "Not here," she said to Harry, irritably, and she snatched his hand as she pulled him from the room. She dragged him up the stairs and back into his bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Everything about this was odd to Harry, but perhaps the strangest thing was seeing his aunt standing in his bedroom. He couldn't remember her setting foot inside since they'd taken the room away from Dudley. She had come close, coming upstairs to insult him from the doorway, but she'd never stepped foot over the threshold.

"Well?" she demanded. "I don't have all night."

"I—well, I just needed to ask you something," he stalled, wondering why he hadn't thought this through before he went downstairs to find her. He decided to start with the good news, with the hope that it would put her in a better mood. "I know you don't care, but it's my seventeenth birthday tomorrow. That means I'm considered an adult, and it will be legal for me to do magic away from school."

His aunt's eyes widened in fear. "If you think I'll allow you to practice that abomination under my roof, you have another thing coming. I absolutely forbid—"

"That's just it, Aunt Petunia. I don't intend to do anything under your roof. Once I'm able to do magic and protect myself, I intend to leave. I won't burden you or Uncle Vernon any more."

Her jaw was set, and her eyes darted from side to side in their sockets as she thought about what he'd told her. She removed her glasses and held them in her trembling hand as she regarded him more carefully. "The old man, the one who's in charge of that school...he'll never allow it. He'll come here, he'll insist you stay."

"He can't. Tomorrow morning, I'll wake up an adult. He can disagree with me, but he can't force me to do anything."

"Why are you telling me this, then? Why didn't you just disappear tomorrow?"

"I need one thing from you before I can go. I wouldn't ask you this myself, but I received this advice from someone I trust, and the least I can do is listen to him." Harry took a deep breath and gulped, wishing the moment was already over. "I need you to tell me that if I need to return, I'll always be welcome."

Petunia goggled at him, and then began to laugh. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach as she lost control of herself. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, and she reached up to wipe them away.

"Why would I say that? We've been waiting for this day since the moment you were brought here."

Harry was angry now, although he wasn't surprised at her reaction. "Listen. I know you hated my mother and father, and that you hate me even more. I don't intend to come back, but I also know that you made a promise to Dumbledore. All I'm asking is that you say a few words, and then I'll disappear." _We'll both know you don't mean it_ , he added, silently.

At the reminder of her promise to Dumbledore, his aunt's expression sobered. "I didn't always hate your mother," she said, quietly. "I resented her, but I didn't hate her. Then she endangered all of us for you and that husband of hers. Every day you've been here, I've waited for the same thing that happened to her to happen to us, just because of a decision I made in a weak moment. I've spent more than fifteen years waiting for my family to be attacked, living in fear."

Every angry word he wanted to spit at her died in his throat. He'd never imagined what it had been like for her, to know what Voldemort was capable of and that he wanted Harry dead, and yet still feel obligated to allow Harry to live in her house with the rest of her family. Not being magical, she had no way to protect herself, her husband, or Dudley. He could think of only one thing to say to her, words he'd said to her a thousand times and never thought he'd mean.

"I'm sorry," he told her, meeting her eyes and seeing the only vulnerability she'd ever shown him within them.

Her voice was barely a whisper, but she looked down at the floor and began to speak. "If you need to return here, you'll always be welcome." She turned and left the room before he could stop her.

He slumped onto the edge of his bed, realizing what it must have cost her to tell him that. He wondered what it would have been like to truly know his aunt, and if she'd been a different person before Voldemort had destroyed their family. She was yet another victim of his, one he'd never considered, and it made him burn with hatred.

This would be the year, he promised himself. He would meet Voldemort before his next birthday, and only one of them would walk away. Harry grimly got up to switch off the light in his room, and then went back to the bed. This would be the last night he stared at this ceiling, making shapes of the shadows and waiting for sleep that never seemed to come.


	4. The Letter That Didn't Come

Ginny found herself pacing back and forth past the window, waiting irritably for the arrival of a letter that she knew wouldn't be there. Harry had just left his aunt and uncle's house the day before, and surely he wouldn't have had time to write to them yet.

She told herself this over and over, but she couldn't quite make herself leave the window. Her Potions textbook sat, unused, on the kitchen table, next to the sheet of parchment she'd intended to use to begin her summer NEWT-level essay for Snape. Ron had swept through the kitchen several times, also waiting for the post, but Ginny had managed to fool him into thinking she was either working on the essay or making herself a sandwich.

She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw Pig's tiny form growing closer to the house. He dipped and swerved as if there were invisible obstacles to avoid, and Ginny grew impatient waiting for Pig to close the rest of the distance.

"Hey, Pig!" she cried, after she pushed the window open. "It's this way!"

Pig seemed to perk up upon hearing her voice and flew in a slightly straighter direction toward her. Ginny thought she could see a single letter tied to his leg, which made Ginny's hopes sink to her stomach. It was probably just another letter for Ron from Hermione.

Worse, it could be a letter from Harry for Ron. If Harry wrote to Ron and didn't send something for her, she would probably unleash a bad temper on the Burrow that even Ron's moodiness couldn't rival.

Pig came through the window, heading straight for Ginny, and she put out her hand for Pig to land in. He missed and whacked into the center of her chest, hooting happily as he bounced away from her at an odd angle. Ginny plucked Pig from the air and held him immobile long enough to release the roll of parchment, which she could now see was indeed a letter from Hermione for Ron.

Ginny heard a rhythmic banging coming from the direction of the stairs, and recognized the noise as Ron pounding his way downstairs from his room. He arrived in the kitchen, looking hopefully at his sister as she held a twittering Pig firmly in her right hand.

"I heard that noisy little git and I thought..." Ron trailed off hopefully, apparently not wanting to admit aloud how desperately he was awaiting a return letter from Hermione.

"It's here. I was about to bring it to you."

Ron gingerly plucked the letter from Ginny's outstretched hand, and she smiled at how carefully he held it by the long ribbon Hermione had tied around it. It really was rather nice to see her brother finally coming to terms with the feelings he'd so clearly been nursing for Hermione for years.

Ginny heard the slamming of Ron's bedroom door in the distance, and she tried not to think about what would be in that letter. Ron nearly always emerged from his room after reading something from Hermione with a stupid grin plastered on his face and a glassy, far-away look in his eyes. She was happy for him, but seeing her brother finally get his heart's desire made her jealous in a way she didn't even want to admit to herself.

"Something wrong, Ginny dear?"

Ginny whirled around and saw her mother bustling around the kitchen, her wand twitching as she cleaned away the remainders of breakfast.

"I'm fine, Mum. Why?"

"It's just the way you were standing there, staring out the window. You look so sad recently. Something's worrying you, and you'll feel better if you talk to someone about it. Your father and I are always more than willing to listen, you know that."

Ginny was astounded at how well her mother seemed to understand how she was feeling. "It's nothing. Just silly school stuff. I'll have those NEWT level courses next year with all those new books to buy, and it's just been a bit overwhelming."

"Oh, you'll be fine. Don't worry about the books—"

"We'll manage," Ginny finished for her, and they laughed together. "You always say that."

"And we always do. Why don't you go outside for awhile? It's a beautiful day, and the sun will do you good. I'll bring you some pumpkin juice, if you like."

"I think I will, Mum. Don't worry about the juice, though. I'm not thirsty." 

"Well, if there's anything else you want, let me know. I don't mind a bit."

Ginny went outside, thinking about her mother as she walked. She began to really dote on Ron and herself when Fred and George moved to their flat in Hogsmeade last summer. It was kind of odd to be in the Burrow when it was so empty, and not having the twins around in particular made things seem much quieter and uneventful.

Dreadfully boring in a way, Ginny felt, but it was nice to get more time with her parents.

Ginny took Ron's broom from where he'd left it outside earlier that morning, and also picked up an old Quaffle they kept around for practice. She threw her leg over the Cleansweep and rose into the air, feeling much better as soon as she did. Something about flying always seemed to clear her head of problems, and all she could feel was the air rushing around her as the broom smoothly accelerated beneath her.

She tossed the Quaffle away, as far up and away from herself as she could, and she waited for a second before zooming after it. She had to dive to pluck the Quaffle from the air before it fell to the ground, and she waited until she nearly flinched before pulling up to avoid an ugly crash. She repeated the drill over and over, throwing the Quaffle differently each time.

She tried something new once she tired of this exercise, throwing the Quaffle through a nearby tree, trying to avoid hitting its branches. When she was successful several times in a row, she challenged herself further to fly quickly to the other side, catching the red ball before it dropped to the slightly overgrown grass at the base of the tree.

Ginny began to feel the pleasant ache in her arms and legs that came after a bit of flying, smiling as she thought of a conversation she and Harry had the previous year. She'd confessed to him that she found the ache in her shoulders that day after she'd flown a bit too long almost pleasant. She'd expected him to be puzzled, but he'd only looked at her in shock, telling her he felt the same way.

Hermione overheard them and pronounced them both daft, sticking her nose back into an enormous book before she could see the amused 'she'll never understand' look Harry had given Ginny.

Ginny felt weightless as she buzzed the top of the tree, the soles of her shoes scraping the leaves as she swooped downward. That afternoon in the common room with Harry had been nearly perfect, with the two of them talking about flying and rolling their eyes at each other at how little Hermione understood them. It would have been absolutely ideal, if Ron had not appeared through the portrait hole and stolen Harry away for a game of chess.

She honestly couldn't fault Harry for wanting to spend time with his two best friends. The three of them had been through quite a lot, and Harry certainly deserved to enjoy himself when he could push aside his anxieties about the uncertain future. In truth, Harry spent a lot more time with her than most boys would willingly spend with their best mate's little sister.

Ginny landed neatly, dismounting the broom as her feet touched the ground. She tossed the Quaffle into a disused orange pot and wondered for the millionth time exactly what Harry felt for her.

_Perhaps he only spends time with me while his other friends are busy because my red hair reminds him of Ron,_ she thought wryly to herself, and then giggled at the idea. Remembering how lovely the time she'd spent with Harry last year had been, she felt a surge of hope that he might feel the same way. 

She pushed the door open and met her brother, coming down the stairs with that happy, dazed look on his face.

"Afternoon, Gin," he said, and Ginny tried to remember if she'd left his broom in the same position as she'd found it. Even in his Hermione-induced haze, he probably wouldn't be inclined to forgive her for borrowing his broom without asking.

"How is Hermione?" Ginny asked him sweetly.

"Oh, she's fine," he responded, his voice unnaturally light. "Still working on our summer essays. Difficult to do research without access to the Hogwarts library. She'll manage, though. She's absolutely brilliant, that girl." Ron seemed to catch himself gushing about her, and he blinked a few times as he tried to switch gears. "Basically, she's fine. She asked me to tell you hello."

"Ah, well, that's lovely, then. I'm glad she's doing well."

"There was something I meant to ask Mum. Is she in the kitchen?"

"Last I saw her."

"Mum!" Ron yelled, practically bounding into the kitchen. "Do you think Hermione could come and stay at the Burrow for the end of the summer? It would really help us, you know, with our essays."

"Normally, it would be fine for Harry and Hermione to spend a few weeks with us, dear. Goodness knows we have plenty of room these days," she answered, a note of sadness in her voice. 

Ginny smirked a bit as her mother automatically included Harry, although Ron hadn't mentioned him. Ginny suspected that Ron was keeping his relationship with Hermione a secret, mostly because of the way their mother watched Fred and Angelina like a hawk the few times the girl had come to the Burrow for dinner. Ginny didn't think either of their parents had figured it out yet, but it wasn't because Ron was doing a particularly good job of covering it up.

"What d'you mean, 'normally'?" Ron asked, looking worried that he would have to wait a full month before he could see Hermione again.

"I'm not sure how much longer we'll be at the Burrow this summer. The letter your father received a few days ago from Kingsley could mean we'll be leaving for Grimmauld Place soon. I'm sure Dumbledore will make sure Hermione is brought there as well. As for Harry, I believe he's already there."

Ginny began to cough as Harry's whereabouts were mentioned so casually. "What makes you say that?" she choked out. "Have you heard from him?"

"No, dear. Dumbledore mentioned it to your father yesterday. That boy does insist on worrying us, but according to Dumbledore, he's there and safe."

"Blimey, I hope he got my birthday present," Ron muttered under his breath. 

"You sent it with Errol, Ron. Even if he was down the street, that ruddy bird might get confused delivering it," Ginny teased him.

"I'm sure Harry won't mind if it's a few days late. Now, run along and give me some room to make lunch, will you?"

Ginny followed Ron outside, wondering if she should have sent Harry's present along with Ron's. She'd intended to ask one of her parents to take it to Grimmauld Place for the next meeting of the Order's inner circle, once word that Harry was staying there became common knowledge. She was excited at the prospect of being able to save it and give it to him in person in just a few days, so she could see in his eyes if he really liked it.


	5. An Empty Grimmauld Place

Harry sat in Sirius' bedroom in number 12 Grimmauld Place, pondering the cobwebs that had begun to collect in the corners of the ceiling. The room looked painfully unused. Harry hadn't allowed anyone inside the room since he'd taken possession of the house after the reading of Sirius' will.

In truth, he hadn't spent much time in this room himself. It hurt far too much, looking at the things Sirius could have used the day he died. Dust had piled onto a quill, dipped into a long-since dry inkwell on his desk. It was eerie. Being here made his death too real. Sirius would never walk into this room again, and it had become as dead as he was.

"I miss him too," a voice from the doorway said, making Harry nearly jump out of his skin. Harry whirled around to see a sad looking Remus Lupin standing there.

"I hate this room," Harry said, feeling horribly exposed as he spoke. "It makes him seem so far away."

Harry expected Lupin to tell him something meaningless; that he would always carry Sirius in his heart, or that Sirius wouldn't want Harry to be unhappy. Those seemed like nice things to say, but it did nothing to dull the ache of losing his godfather.

"I know. I feel the same way."

Harry regarded Lupin, silently thanking him for saying the one thing that would make him feel better at all. Knowing he wasn't the only one still mourning the loss of Sirius made it just a bit more bearable.

"Did you need something?" Harry asked him, wanting to change the subject.

Lupin cleared his throat before he spoke, and Harry realized the man was much more affected by talking about Sirius than Harry thought he would be.

"I came to tell you that Dumbledore knows where you are, and he's arranged for several things that will make your stay here more comfortable."

"How? Did you tell him?" Harry asked, before realizing how accusatory that would sound.

"No, Harry, I didn't. Surely you've realized that there are some things no one needs to tell Professor Dumbledore." 

"Those two men on the Knight Bus, were they—"

"Aurors. Yes, Harry, they were. They weren't there at Dumbledore's request. They were there at mine." Lupin seemed to notice the anger rising in Harry's features. "Before you get too outraged, please remember that I have no intention of allowing you to risk your safety unnecessarily. I know how skilled you are at defending yourself, but I can't imagine why we would take any chances."

Harry still felt annoyed that his first decision as an adult had been trumped, but his anger was subsiding. He didn't want to admit it, but Lupin was probably right.

"Did you say Dumbledore had arranged for something else?" Harry asked him, changing the subject and trying to keep his residual irritation out of his voice.

"The most useful thing I've come here to tell you is that I have been assigned to teach you how to Apparate. You are eligible for your license now that you've turned seventeen. After a discussion with Dumbledore," Lupin winked at Harry, "the Minister of Magic will allow me to administer the test here, instead of at the Apparition Test Center. One tap of my wand on this piece of parchment," Lupin showed him a small scroll, which he took from the inside pocket of his robes, "and you will have the privilege and the responsibility of Apparating."

Harry couldn't believe he'd forgotten this. Apparating would have been a useful skill for Harry more times in the past than he could count, although he couldn't have used it to get out of trouble at Hogwarts. He smiled as Hermione's voice came unbidden into his head, _how many times do I have to tell you, you can't Apparate on the Hogwarts grounds_ , but it could have helped him a thousand times when he wasn't at school.

"When can we start?" Harry asked, feeling his spirits lift a little.

"Right now, if you'd like. Considering how quickly you learned how to summon a Patronus, Harry, I think I could probably make you official this afternoon."

* * *

Harry still felt a bit dizzy as he heard a 'pop' next to him, and tried to hide it as he turned to face Lupin.

"That was a marvelous second try, Harry. You're standing this time, and you're exactly where we agreed you would land."

Harry looked around the enormous sitting room on the ground floor of the house, and saw that he had, indeed, landed in the exact spot Lupin had asked him to aim for.

"Could I try it once more?" he asked, not wanting to find he wasn't as good at this as he needed to be at an inopportune moment.

"As many times as you like, Harry. I'm free for the afternoon." Lupin pulled a chair out from the table and gestured to it. "Why don't you rest for a moment, though? Apparating can be disorienting, especially at first."

Harry gave him a grateful, but sheepish look. "I am a little lightheaded," he admitted.

"It's fine, Harry. Did I ever tell you about my first Apparition test?" Harry shook his head in response, and Lupin continued. "I ruined a cauldron, five jars of porcupine quills, and a perfectly good set of robes."

Harry laughed. "All at the same time?"

"Well, I daresay the porcupine quills went a long way toward the destruction of the robes, Harry."

"Were you in them at the time?"

"Unfortunately, I was."

"How did you do it?" Harry asked, shaking his head and laughing some more.

"It's probably better if you don't ask. I don't want you to take after me. Better for you to take after James. He wasn't as quick as you are, but he was able to Apparate reliably after his fifth try."

"Is that when my mother fell in love with him? Did that make him less of an egotistical git?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Since he'd seen his father as a teenager in Snape's Pensieve two years ago, he'd burned with the desire to ask Lupin directly how his parents had fallen in love.

"We were all egotistical gits then, Harry. James, Sirius, and myself. Not all teenagers are as well-adjusted as you, Ron, and Hermione are."

"If you think we're well-adjusted, you must never have seen one of Ron and Hermione's rows."

They laughed again, and Harry saw his chance to find out more about his parents slipping away.

"All right, Harry. Let's try it ag—"

"Couldn't it wait a few minutes? Couldn't you tell me a bit more about my parents? Why did my mother agree to see my father for their first date?"

"I don't know that, Harry. I saw James pester Lily hundreds of times to go on a date with him. Sirius and I never realized how sincere he was until after she finally relented and spent an afternoon at Hogsmeade with him. I'm not sure it was really even a date. 

"Somehow, James manipulated his way into a group of Lily's friends, and he charmed everyone there _but_ Lily. One by one, all the other couples broke away to spend time alone, and poor Lily was left with your father. 

"Sirius and I only saw them once that day after he got Lily on her own. He was buying a book for her, and she was telling him she didn't want him to. I thought she was angry with him at first, but Sirius pointed out that she didn't really sound as if she meant it.

"They were inseparable after that day. Sirius and I hardly saw James alone after that."

"When was that?"

"The end of our sixth year. The last Hogsmeade visit of the year."

Harry thought back to the day he'd spent with Ginny, which had been the last Hogsmeade visit of his own sixth year. Was it possible that he took after his father in yet another way?

"Harry? Are you listening to me?" Lupin asked, waving his hand in front of Harry's face.

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry. I must have been thinking of something else. What did you say?"

"I asked if you'd like to get in a bit more practice before I give you the final exam. If your attention is wavering, perhaps we'd better call it a day."

"No!" Harry said quickly, and louder than he'd meant to. "I mean, I can concentrate. I won't splinch myself, I promise."

"Only if you're sure, Harry. I promised Dumbledore and the Ministry that we'd be careful."

"I will. I'll try to Apparate to my room this time."

"All right. Picture your destination in your head. Decide where you'll be, and then feel your body moving toward that place in your mind. Know where you'll land, how your arms will fall, how your knees will be bent. Feel it before you do it. When you're sure, try the incantation and wand movement, and you'll be there."

Harry pictured his bedroom, and then got an image of himself standing on the throw rug at the side of his bed. His wand hand would still be raised, but his left hand will rest lightly at his side. His knees would be slightly bent, his body weight evenly distributed.

"If you're ready, begin."

" _Appareo_!" Harry said, flicking his wand in the upside-down 'V' shape Lupin had shown him. He heard a loud popping sound and opened his eyes, happy to see the wallpaper of the room he'd slept in since his first visit to 12 Grimmauld Place.

He looked down at his hands, mostly to count his fingers and make sure they still added up to ten. The rest of him seemed to be intact as well, and he finally allowed himself to relax.

Lupin followed him, smiling broadly as he appeared. He took the short scroll of parchment from his inside pocket and tapped it with his wand, then handed it to Harry.

"That wasn't the exam," Harry told him.

"You're never told which Apparition attempt is your test, Harry. It's an old tradition."

"Good thing I didn't miss, then."

"Congratulations, Harry."

"Thanks."

"Now, I have a bit more news. There will be an Order meeting here in two days' time," Lupin waited for a moment, looking closely at Harry. "Before you get too upset, perhaps you should first let me tell you that you, Ron, and Hermione are invited."

"And Ginny?"

"Molly feels she's still too young. Let's fight one battle at a time, Harry."

"If they're invited, does that mean—"

"The Weasleys will arrive in two days, just before the meeting. Dumbledore has spoken with Hermione's parents, and I will be fetching her myself tomorrow afternoon. You should get ready, Harry. You're about to have some visitors."


	6. Ginny's Gift

Ginny gave her trunk a dirty look as she wondered who put a hex on it to make it so heavy. Surely her clothes, a few books and her silly trinkets couldn't weigh this much.

"I still don't know why you wouldn't let me Apparate here, Mum," Ron moaned, struggling next to Ginny with his own trunk.

"Ronald Weasley, if you mention that one more time..." their mother said in a tone that told them they didn't want to hear the end of that sentence.

If Ginny's hands hadn't been full, she would have applauded. She was sick of hearing about Apparating from Ron every hour on the hour. Ever since their father had taken him down to the Ministry for his Apparition test after they returned from Hogwarts, Ron had been worse than Percy was after getting his license. Ron took every opportunity he could to Apparate. It was even more insufferable than those mood swings when he was missing Hermione.

Ah, but that was about to be remedied, wasn't it? Ginny knew Hermione was waiting for them inside, and judging by the look on Ron's face, that point was not lost on him, either.

"All right, everyone. You know what to do," their mum said.

Ginny concentrated, and heard the words _number twelve Grimmauld Place, London_ inside her head. Sirius' house squeezed outward, pushing numbers eleven and thirteen out to the side to make room. Their mum tapped the door with her wand and it creaked open.

With one last heft, Ginny tugged her trunk inside and then collapsed on top of it in fatigue. Ron's trunk appeared next to her, hovering a half-meter over the floor. She turned to her brother, still panting, and he smirked at her. Now that they were indoors, away from the prying eyes of Muggles, he could use magic.

More to the point, Ginny couldn't and Ron wasn't letting her forget it.

"I'll help you take yours upstairs when I'm done with mine, if you like," Ron told her magnanimously, but Ginny could hear the unmistakable undercurrent of superiority in his tone.

"I've got it, thanks," Ginny told him, not letting him see how annoyed she was. "I'm just taking a rest."

Lupin came from the rear of the house to meet them, and her mother pounced on him as soon as he appeared. "Ah, Remus. I need to speak with you about the—"

"Yes, Molly. I understand. I have what you're looking for in the sitting room. We can look at it now." They disappeared together into the darkness of Sirius' house.

Ginny frowned after them. It still stung that she would be the only person in the house not invited to the meeting of the Order that night. 

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, running down the stairs toward them.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled back, and his trunk clattered to the ground as his attention wavered from his spell.

Ginny smiled in spite of herself. It was lovely to see how happy they made each other, even through the occasional fights and the differences in their personalities.

"I thought you'd never get here," Hermione told Ron, as he picked her up and twirled her around.

"It took forever," he told her. "I thought we'd never—"

Ron abruptly stopped talking as Hermione pushed herself away from him. Ginny was puzzled until she heard two voices getting louder, coming from the direction of the sitting room.

So, Ron _was_ trying to keep the relationship a secret from their parents. Ginny filed that information away, wondering if she could find some use for it. She should feel guilty, thinking of taking advantage of her brother that way. Most people wouldn't do that. Then again, most people weren't Fred and George's little sister.

Ginny heard a noise coming from upstairs and looked up to see Harry coming to join them.

"Ron! Ginny!" he called, clapping Ron on the shoulder as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

"Hello, Harry," Ginny said, feeling oddly shy. Not the terrifying, mind-destroying kind of shy she had been when she'd first met him, but a fluttery, nervous kind of shy, full of anticipation.

"Let's get your trunk upstairs," Hermione suggested to Ron, and Ginny saw a smirk pass over Harry's face before he hid it.

Ron recast his spell to levitate the trunk and started up the stairs. Hermione followed him, and they seemed ready to sprint to the second floor. Hermione ran her hand quickly over Ron's back, an innocent sort of gesture, Ginny thought. Apparently it hadn't felt that way to Ron, because the trunk crashed to the stairs.

The noise drew the attention of everyone else in the room, and Ginny felt a pang of pity for her brother. His secret wouldn't last a day with Ron, Mum and Hermione in the same house.

"Ron, dear. Do be careful, won't you? I'm sure you don't want to spend the afternoon repairing what you've broken," their mother admonished.

Ron cast the levitation spell again, and Ginny could hear his voice shake as he spoke. Ginny wondered what it would be like to have the kind of power Hermione had over her brother. All Hermione had to do was give Ron the barest touch and it reduced him to a dumbstruck git. She fought the urge to walk to Harry and put her hand on his arm, though she was curious to see how he would react.

"Where's your dad?" Harry whispered to Ginny.

"He's been away. He left a week ago. He's sent owls, so I'm sure he's all right," she whispered back.

"I'm sure he is too," Harry answered. "They're a bit much, aren't they?" he said, pointing upstairs.

"You haven't had to live with Ron for the past few months. It's been simply awful."

Ginny's mother interrupted them. "Harry, I hate to ask, but could you help Ginny with her trunk?"

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley. She'll be staying with Hermione, right?"

"It's your house, dear. I do think that would be best, though."

Harry levitated Ginny's trunk using the same spell Ron had used on his own, and Ginny watched as it rose smoothly up to the second floor.

"I wish I could do that," Ginny said, as they walked toward the room she would be sharing with Hermione.

"You can. You know that spell, don't you? We learned it way back in—"

"No. I mean, I wish I could do that _right now_."

Harry nodded, finally understanding what she meant. "I know. I've only been allowed to do magic outside school for a few days, and I already don't know how I got along before." Ginny glared at him, and he immediately began to backpedal. "I mean, well, that last year passed really quickly. You'll be seventeen before you know it. Really."

They reached her room, and Harry allowed the trunk to fall at the foot of the bed furthest from the door. Hermione was clearly using the other bed, as it currently held a neat stack of six books and a very tired Crookshanks.

"Thanks, Harry."

"Sure. I don't mind. It's nice just to have you here, really."

Ginny's eyes met Harry's, and she watched him as he realized what he'd said. "Harry, I—"

"I mean, the house was really empty. It's such a relief to have company."

Disappointment washed over her at the way he chose to rephrase himself, but she gathered herself together quickly. Harry started to move toward the door, but there was one last piece of unfinished business Ginny had for him.

"Wait. I don't want you to think I've forgotten your birthday." Harry turned and smiled at her, and she smiled back. "I would have sent it earlier, but I knew you were here. Pig or Errol haven't got a chance of finding this place."

"Errol got here eventually, but Lupin had to bring him in. He was hopping around outside, dragging that package of Ron's behind him." He looked at her, holding her eyes just a moment longer than was comfortable. "Ginny, you didn't have to get me anything."

"Don't be daft," she said, and she decided to tease him. "I suppose if you don't want it, I could keep it for myself. I've been wanting one, and if you'd rather not—"

"All right, all right. Give it to me," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot in anticipation, looking like a First Year waiting for the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 ¾ for the first time.

"It's here, in my trunk," she called over her shoulder, shoving books and pieces of clothing to the side as she scanned for Harry's package. "Ah! Here it is. It's small, but don't let that fool you."

She handed him a compact, silver box. She'd tied a red ribbon around it and tucked in a little card that had his name on it. He smiled as he took it, and something about the way he looked just then fueled her hope that maybe, just maybe, she was something more to him than Ron's little sister.

"Can I open it?" he asked, holding it to his ear and shaking it.

"It's past your birthday, Harry. Of course you can." She smiled as Harry's look of anticipation turned just a bit more serious as he began to battle with the red ribbon holding the box closed.

"Blimey, Ginny. Did you put an Imperturbable charm on this?"

"Wait, wait. Just pull on that bit there," she told him, pointing to one of the ends of ribbon that trailed away from the box, "and it'll all come undone."

Harry yanked and the bow untied. Several individual strips of ribbon trailed away and pooled at Harry's feet. He gave her one last look before he removed the top of the box, and then looked in wonder at the present inside.

"What is—"

"It's a Silver Snitch. They just came out last Fall. Do you remember when I made you wait outside at Quality Quidditch Supplies the last time we were in Hogsmeade? I knew they were coming out, and I wanted to get you one. I had to ask old Buckley behind the counter to hide them from you when you came in, and I've been threatening the rest of our Quidditch team for months to keep them from telling you about it. I was afraid you'd buy one for yourself if you knew." She realized she was babbling a bit, and forced herself to stop talking.

"What does it do?"

"It's for practice. It's just as elusive as the Golden Snitch, but there's an easy recall spell for this one. Watch. Let it go."

Harry reached into the box and plucked the Silver Snitch from the tissue paper inside. He released it into the air and it flew around the room, quickly changing directions and moving in exactly the same way the standard Snitch did.

"Now, point your wand at it, and say, ' _Penna Revenio'_."

Harry did as she asked and the Silver Snitch zipped over to him, hovering in the air just in front of his wand. A smile broke out over his face as he grasped his present, its wings still gently flapping a few times before they folded neatly along the inner sphere of the Snitch.

"Brilliant," he told her, and Ginny couldn't help giggling a bit at his reaction. The laugh died in her throat as he pulled her into a gentle hug.

She allowed her arms to circle around him, trying to match the way he was holding her. She turned her head to the side and let her cheek rest against his chest. The three months' allowance she'd spent on his present was just about the best decision she'd ever made.

Just as she was starting to get used to the way it felt to have his arms around her, he cleared his throat and released her. He looked at her uncertainly for a moment, and then bent toward her and kissed her gently on the cheek.

_Potter, your aim is bad_ , she longed to tell him. _My lips are just a bit over to the left from there._

"Thanks, Ginny," he said, and she noticed his cheeks were a little pink.

"You know, they sent you up here to get me out of the way," Ginny told him, suddenly desperate to change the subject.

"Oh, I don't think so. They just wanted you to—"

"No, I know my Mum. If there'd been some way to leave me at the Burrow and keep me as far away from the Order as possible, she'd have done it."

Harry looked at her, guilt plainly written on his face. She could guess why, and she decided to put him out of his misery.

"Don't worry, Harry. I know that they invited you, Hermione, and Ron to the meeting. My Mum's already explained it to me. Apparently I'm making this sacrifice for her, so she won't worry."

"I asked about you, Ginny, when Lupin told me the rest of us were welcome at the meeting."

She smiled at him, as that was a bit unexpected. "You did?"

"Don't misunderstand me, Ginny. I only asked because I knew you'd be angry to be left out."

"What are you getting at?" That was an odd distinction to make, and she didn't know what he meant by it.

"I wish none of you were going to be there. I wish there was a way to keep you, Ron, _and_ Hermione out of it."

"Harry, why do you have to do that?" she asked, resisting the urge to break the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and knock him on his backside with a well-placed hex.

"Do what?"

"Leave us out. Insist on trying to go it alone." She could feel herself getting angry enough to be close to the point where she would lose control of her temper.

"Don't you remember what it was like at the Department of Mysteries? Not to mention, in that battle, all the Death Eaters were split up and we could tackle them in smaller groups. What happens if it's not like that the next time? Can you imagine facing a roomful of them, all at the same time?"

"So, what you're telling me is that you think you're better off facing a roomful of Death Eaters on your own, instead of having your friends there to help you?"

"No! What I'm telling you is that I don't want you there at all!" Harry was actually raising his voice to her now, and he was clearly losing the battle against his own temper. "If I never saw another Cruciatus or Killing Curse aimed at one of my friends again, it wouldn't be a day too soon."

"Harry, you're infuriating, do you know that? Don't you know we'd all risk anything to help you? What if something happened to you and we weren't there? How do you expect us to live, wondering if we could have stopped it if you'd just given us the chance?"

"And how do you expect me to live if you are there and something happens to you? What if by some miracle I survive, but I lose you, or Ron, or Hermione? What then?"

"That would mean we won, that you defeated Voldemort and freed all of us. Don't you think that's worth a little risk?"

"I don't know if that will ever happen, Ginny. I don't have a clue how to defeat Voldemort. There's a prophecy, but according to that, it's just as likely I'll die and Voldemort will win. I can't ask—"

"You don't have to ask. We're not waiting to be invited, Harry. We—we love you. I can't imagine the three of us waiting on the sidelines and watching you run off with a few Aurors to save us all."

Ginny could see the indecision on his face, and she knew she was winning. She didn't want to push him now, especially in light of the fact that she'd nearly blurted out that she was in love with him. That was something she hadn't even truly admitted to herself.

"I stand by what I've said. You can't be too angry for me for being relieved that you, at least, are being kept out of danger," he told her, and Ginny could think of only one reason he would single her out.

"It's because you know I'm weak to him, isn't it? I'm the only one who's proven she can be manipulated by him."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and she saw his puzzlement disappear as he figured it out. "You're talking about the diary, aren't you? Ginny, that was years ago. You can't mean—"

"I'm only a year younger than you, Harry. Surely, you can't be setting me apart just because of my age. If it's not the diary, what could it be? Just admit it, so I'll know."

"I swear to you, Ginny. That's not it. I—I'd just feel better knowing you were safe."

"How did it feel when they always left you out, Harry? Did you ever just sit back and accept it? What is it you expect me to do?"

"Ginny, I—"

"Harry!" Hermione's voice called from the hallway, and Harry turned just in time to see her appear in the doorway. "The meeting is starting in a few minutes. We should go."

"I'll be down in a minute," Harry told her.

"Harry, what are you—" Ron began, but Hermione cut him off.

"He said he'd follow us. Let's just go."

Ron gave Hermione a confused look, but he shrugged and allowed Hermione to pull him away.

"We're not done with this, Harry," Ginny told him, as gently as her temper would allow.

Harry apparently had no answer for her, because he just gave her a long, searching look, and then turned and left her alone in her room.


	7. A Meeting of the Order

Harry looked around the room as Order members were still arriving and found he recognized everyone there.

There was Dumbledore, of course, who was moving around the room and greeting witches and wizards as they arrived. Many of them pulled him aside for a moment to tell him something or to hand him notes, and Harry wondered how Dumbledore kept track of it all.

Dedalus Diggle was speaking quite animatedly with Emmaline Vance and Elphias Doge in one corner of the room. Dedalus' violet top hat was bouncing around on his head as he spoke and Emmaline had to keep ducking away from him to avoid being struck by his arms as he gestured wildly.

Sturgis Podmore and Mad-Eye Moody stood in another corner, expressions of great seriousness on their faces. Harry recalled the sacrifice Sturgis had made for the Order back in Harry's fifth year, when he went to Azkaban for six months after the Ministry found him guarding the door to the Department of Mysteries for Dumbledore. Mad-Eye, who had spent nearly a year in captivity while Barty Crouch, Jr. had impersonated him, and Sturgis, who now knew the horrors of the Dementors and Azkaban, would have much in common.

Kingsley, Lupin, and Tonks stood in a loose group just next to the long table that dominated the room. Tonks caught Harry's eye and waved excitedly at him, and when Kingsley noticed, he gave Harry a quick nod and a wink. They both accompanied Harry, Ron, Dumbledore, and Mad-Eye to rescue Hermione and Lupin last year from Bellatrix Lestrange, and Harry knew that he could never repay either of them for helping to rescue two of the most important people in his life.

A witch Harry was nearly sure was called Hestia Jones stood at the other side of the table with Snape and McGonagall. Snape's trademark sneer was on his lips and he was staring beadily at the young woman; Harry wondered what she could possibly have done to warrant that. She seemed nice enough when she helped to escort Harry to Grimmauld Place two years ago, which was the last time Harry had seen her.

Hermione and Ron had already taken seats at the table, close enough to Hestia Jones, Snape, and McGonagall that Harry wondered if they were eavesdropping on that conversation on purpose. He made a note to himself to ask them about it later. Fred and George sat to Hermione's left, both of them bent over a piece of parchment and quietly arguing with each other. Bill Weasley was just entering the room with his mother, and it looked as though they were catching up a bit.

A few people Harry thought would attend were notably missing. Mundungus Fletcher and Hagrid were nowhere to be found. Charlie Weasley, of course, was still in Romania. Mr. Weasley was apparently still away on the trip Ginny had mentioned to him.

This turned his thoughts to Ginny. Harry knew exactly where she was. Mrs. Weasley had threatened her to within an inch of her life if Ginny was caught anywhere near the meeting. Harry was sympathetic to Ginny, and knew exactly how left out she felt, but he still couldn't deny that he felt safer knowing she, at least, would be protected from this mess.

Harry saw Dumbledore begin to move toward the head of the table, and Harry decided he should move to the seat next to Ron. As Harry sat down, Ron gave him a look filled with nervous excitement, and Harry couldn't help smiling a bit at Ron's eagerness. Even when Harry was weary or felt that things were hopeless, all he had to do was allow Ron's generally optimistic attitude to rub off on himself.

"Oh, Ron dear. I wish Dumbledore hadn't insisted on including you and—" Harry heard Mrs. Weasley begin before Ron's head whipped around.

"Mum!" Ron said under his breath, his eyes wide with embarrassment at being fawned over by his mother in front of so many older witches and wizards. Harry suppressed a snigger, not wanting to attract his friend's temper just before such an important meeting.

Bill, possibly because he overheard his mother and had some sympathy for Ron, called his mother over to ask her another question.

"Oi! That's right. How is it that our Ronnikins got an invite to this meeting?" Fred whispered, and he was not trying to hide his own sniggering.

"Right, Fred. It seems like just yesterday Mum was changing his ickle nappies," George added.

Mrs. Weasley bustled back over to their group and she'd apparently heard Fred and George's comments. "That is more than enough from the two of you. I will not have you disturbing this meeting just so you—" she stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes at the parchment sitting in front of the twins. "What," she began, her voice rising wildly, "is that!"

"Nothing, Mum," George told her, looking younger as he shrank away from his mother. "Just something in case I have to take a few notes."

"Do you think I'm absolutely mad? The two of you have been writing on that for twenty minutes, I've seen you," she said, narrowing her eyes at both of them as she ripped the parchment away from them. "But there isn't a scratch on it, is there?"

"Well, it's disappearing ink, isn't it," Fred told her, but he didn't sound altogether convincing.

"Tell me what this parchment is for, or you'll find yourselves on your way back to Hogsmeade before you can say Apparate." The twins looked resolutely at each other, and Fred folded his arms over his chest in a show of defiance. "Right, I'll just take this then," Mrs. Weasley told them, and she rolled it up and stuck it inside her robes. "If the two of you put another foot wrong, I'll have Dumbledore throw you out. For good."

When she was safely out of earshot, Harry leaned over Ron to speak with the twins quietly enough so no one else would hear them.

"What was it, really?" Harry asked.

Fred and George looked at each other in indecision for a moment before they seemed to agree to confess their plan.

"It's something we're working on. It's two pieces of parchment, you see. You write on one, and everything you write is transferred to the other," George told Harry, with a note of pride in his voice.

"Yeah, we got the idea from one of those machines Muggles use that Dad's always on about. Some silly name like fat machine," Fred added.

"Can't imagine why they'd call it that," George said.

"It's called a fax machine," Hermione prissily informed them, and it appeared she was trying very hard to hide her interest in their new invention. "So, would this work over long distances?" she asked innocently, and Harry realized what she was thinking. If it did work over distances, it could make her skill with the hidden message charm nearly obsolete. Harry tried to read her expression, and he couldn't tell whether that would make her happy or disappointed.

"No, no. Only works over shorter distances. Maybe about the size of a Quidditch pitch," Fred answered, grabbing a sandwich from one of the platters his mother had put out on the table.

"Who has the other one?" Ron asked his brothers, and they looked around to make sure their mother was nowhere near.

"Ginny," Fred whispered.

Ron looked as though he was about to explode, and George clapped one of his large hands over Ron's mouth before he could say anything too loudly.

"Listen here, mate. Ginny's just a year younger than you, and she has an interest here too. The least we could do was make sure she wasn't in the dark," George told him, still holding his hand rigidly in place.

"Are you crazy?" Harry asked them, trying to keep his voice low and avoid having his own mouth covered by one of the twins' hands. "She's your little sister. Don't you _want_ her to be safe and out of this?"

"All right, we'll tell you the truth. She told us how much more trouble she could get into trying to find out information on our own, or worse, trying to find a way to help without having all the details. She's right. If she's determined to involve herself, she's safest if she has an idea what's going on." Fred nodded emphatically to punctuate his point.

Ron ripped his brother's hand away. "I don't care what you say; I'm making sure she's safe."

"Well, right. Good luck with that. You may as well try to keep Hermione out of here too. That way, none of the women in your life will want to speak to you," George told him, and then smiled at Hermione.

"Ron would never try to keep me from—" Hermione began, and then stopped when she saw how Ron was guiltily looking down at the table in front of him. "Oh, Ron. You honestly don't think—"

"I do wish I could know you would be safe, Hermione," he said, his voice so small that Harry could hardly hear him. "If there was something I could do to ensure that, I wouldn't think twice about doing it."

Harry wondered what hex Hermione would use on him and what her punishment would be for doing it in front of a roomful of her teachers and Aurors. To his surprise, Hermione's lips merely thinned, and there was a cold set to her eyes as she glared at Ron. Ron, however, reacted as if she'd slapped him.

Dumbledore chose that moment to begin the meeting, and as the conversations around him died down and people began to find a place to sit, Harry tried to figure out how he and Ron had gotten into so much trouble. Ginny might not be speaking to either of them, and now it appeared that Hermione would not be speaking to Ron either.


	8. A Joining of Forces

Ginny paced the floor of the room she and Hermione shared, maddened at how quiet the house seemed even though she knew that over a dozen witches and wizards were meeting in the large dining room downstairs.

If there was one spell her mother was unrivaled in casting, it was a Silencing Charm.

Ginny looked in disgust at the parchment Fred and George gave her. When their loopy, impossible to read handwriting ceased to appear, Ginny knew they'd either been caught, or the new product they were testing was rubbish.

Ginny would have to wait, and then hear about the meeting only through a second-hand account from someone else's memory. At least Fred and George seemed willing to tell her as much as they could remember. After all, they were prepared to give her a blow-by-blow account via their Weasley's Joined Parchments. Ginny knew what the chances were that Ron or Harry would tell her anything; they both seemed to think she was so inept that she was likely to poke herself in the eye with her wand trying to defend herself.

Honestly, what was the point of all this studying and practice if the people who were supposed to know you the best seemed to think you are a helpless pillock who needs to be sheltered from the war everyone knows is coming?

Ginny sighed, feeling quite weary of the entire situation. Time passed so incredibly slowly when you couldn't think of anything to do other than wait for the rest of the world to finish ignoring you.

She couldn't believe that it almost sounded appealing, but the idea of opening her Potions textbook and working on Snape's essay seemed like just the thing to help her pass the time. If she had it finished by the end of the meeting, perhaps Hermione would run an eye over it.

Ginny saw some hope in that, actually. The boys would never stick around to watch herself and Hermione work on polishing her essay, and then Ginny would have Hermione alone. There was a good chance Hermione might give her some details about the meeting, if it was presented to her the right way. Ginny smiled a little. Hermione's mind was like a steel trap. She'd remember every little mundane detail of the entire meeting, if Ginny could only get her to share it.

Ginny bent her head over the textbook with new feeling of purpose. Finally, she had the inspiration she needed to finish her summer homework.

* * *

Ginny finished the final paragraph of her essay on how dangerous Billywig stings and Ashwinder eggs could be if they were used together incorrectly. Ginny felt she had included all of the information Snape would be looking for, but she looked it over again just in case. As she was a Gryffindor, she had to make sure anything she handed in to Snape was as perfect as she could make it, or he could easily find a reason to give her poor marks and cover her essay in red ink.

She was reading it through for the third time when she heard the stomping of feet on the stairs. Someone knocked at her door, as she'd left it mostly closed and it probably gave the impression she didn't want to be disturbed.

"Come in," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

Harry entered, looking a bit breathless. "Ginny, they're coming. You might want to," he interrupted himself to take a gulping breath, "get out of the way."

"Who's coming? What are you on about?" She stared at him as his chest heaved, and realized he must have sprinted here after the meeting to warn her about something. "Harry, is it bad? Are we in danger?"

"Just in danger of being caught in the crossfire. Ron and Hermione are—"

"Don't tell me Ron's managed to put his foot in it already."

"Ginny, we're wasting time. Come on."

"If you were so concerned about time, why didn't you just Apparate up here?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I can't believe it. I didn't think of it." More noises came from the hallway now, and Harry looked desperately at Ginny. "Too late," he told her.

"Might as well enjoy the show," Ginny told him, and she turned back to her Potions essay. Harry flopped into a chair near Ginny's desk, took the Silver Snitch from his pocket, and began to practice with it. Ginny smiled in spite of herself, as she still felt she should be angry with him, but she was delighted that he seemed to like his present.

The door to the room opened wide again and Hermione stormed through, Ron close on her heels.

"I'm trying to explain it to you, Hermione," Ron moaned at her.

"Well, brilliant. I'd like an explanation, actually. Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you think you're so much more capable than I am at fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I suppose you think I'm more likely to trip on my robes than adequately defend myself, don't you?"

"Hermione, I don't mean that at all. You just don't understand. If you could have seen yourself lying there on the floor of that cabin last year, knocked out and helpless—"

"Oh, I suppose that's what you think my specialty is. After all, I got Stunned at the Department of Mysteries trying to help Harry. Then you come to rescue me in France only to find me knocked out again. I'm surprised I'm not out cold now, Ron, but thank goodness you're here to revive me just in case."

Ginny wondered how her brother could be so incredibly daft. He didn't seem to realize that making a mistake at the wrong time was Hermione's worst fear, and he must have said something to give her the impression that he thought she was incapable. All he had to do was tell her what Ginny knew was the truth. Ron thought she was just about the most powerful witch he'd ever met. That was all Hermione needed to hear from him.

Ginny stole a glance at Harry, who looked uncomfortable as he tried to continue his practice with the Silver Snitch. If someone listened when she and Harry talked to each other, could they hear what should have been said the way Ginny did when Ron and Hermione fought with each other?

"Hermione, for the hundredth time, I'm sorry I ever said it. Can't you just forget—"

"Sorry you said it, Ron, or sorry you meant what you said?"

Ron was dumbstruck by this question. His mouth moved silently and his eyes darted around the room as he appeared to be casting around in his mind for the right answer.

"I—I'm sorry I ever said anything," Ron finally said, and Ginny just barely suppressed an outward groan. She had never heard an answer more wrong than that one, and she had taken Potions for five years with Colin Creevey.

Harry jumped to his feet just as Hermione seemed about to boil over. "Ron, why don't we go and have a game of Chess? Ginny was just asking me to leave so she could finish her Potions essay."

Ginny was surprised to see Harry jump between them so boldly, but not as surprised as Ron and Hermione looked as they realized there were two other people in the room.

"Harry, but I—" Ron stammered, and looked from Harry to Hermione several times.

"Go on, Ron. Perhaps a spot of Chess will clear your head and allow you to see reason," Hermione told him, and Ron looked even more confused than before.

"So, I _should_ go and play Chess then?" Ron asked, and Ginny nearly burst out laughing. Hermione gave him a curt nod, sat down on her bed, and opened one of the many books that sat there. Ron sighed and took out his wand. " _Appareo_ ," he said, flicking his wand in a dejected sort of way, and he disappeared.

Harry gave Ginny one last look, and Ginny shook her head, as if to say, _can you believe those two_? Harry Apparated downstairs as well, leaving the two girls alone.

Hermione began to mutter under her breath, and Ginny only caught bits and pieces of what she was saying. "Treat me like a child," was followed a few moments later by "couldn't even get past Devil's Snare on his own" and then "got a brain wrapped around his head, and he thinks I can't take care of myself."

"Hermione," Ginny began, already feeling a little guilty for what she was about to do, "I'm really sorry because I know what a git my brother can be, but could you keep it down? I'm really trying to finish this essay, and I'm not at all sure about the conclusion." Ginny scratched out a line she'd noticed was redundant before Harry burst in a few minutes ago, and waited for Hermione to do what Ginny knew she'd do.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry. Here, do you mind if I have a look at it? I might be able to suggest something."

"Really, Hermione? You don't mind?" Ginny tried to sound surprised as Hermione got up and came to the desk. It really was the least Ginny could do, to help take Hermione's mind off her row with Ron.

Ginny actually found herself a little nervous as Hermione read the essay over her shoulder, tapping at bits of it with the feather end of her quill and saying things like, "Ah, that's a good point," or "Oh, he won't expect you to have thought to include that. Well done." Hermione finally straightened again, and pronounced her essay more than good enough to hand in as it was.

"I wouldn't change a word of it, Ginny. I believe you'll get a very high mark on that, even from Snape."

Ginny took a chance that she'd correctly figured out what had caused the row between Hermione and Ron. "If we're both so capable, Hermione, why do the boys want to leave us out?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger, and Ginny knew she was spot on.

"Oh, it's infuriating, isn't it? I simply can't believe that we've fought side-by-side and those two seem to think I should be hidden away somewhere. It's just so—"

"Unfair?" Ginny offered. "At least you were invited to the bloody meeting, Hermione. One of us was sitting here this afternoon, and I don't have a clue what's going on."

Hermione gave her a guilty look. "Well, you're right, of course. I know your mother is trying to keep you out of it, but as long as you're friends with Harry, I'm afraid you'll be smack in the middle of things with the rest of us." Hermione looked around as though Molly Weasley was about to spring through the doorway and hex her for what she was about to say. "I don't see any reason for you to be kept in the dark. I need someone to help me go over what I know. Perhaps you'll see something I've missed. Would you like to help me?"

Ginny tried to look grave as she answered. "Of course, Hermione. If you think I could help."

Hermione got up and shut the door. "Help? Yes, I think you can help. I was the one who got Stunned at the Department of Mysteries while you were still fighting, and with a broken ankle at that."

"Hermione, you know Ron doesn't really think you're incapable, don't you? He just cares about you and wants to protect you, whether you need protecting or not."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I just wish he wasn't so hard-headed about it."

"If you didn't want someone hard-headed, I don't think you should be dating a Weasley."

Hermione laughed a bit at this, and Ginny was glad she could lift her spirits even a little bit.

"I want to protect him as well, but you don't see me trying to exclude him," Hermione protested. "It's so complicated. Sometimes everything we do and say seems so natural, and other times I don't have a clue how we're supposed to be."

"Hermione," Ginny began, guardedly, "Ron's not pressuring you to do anything you don't feel comfortable doing, is he?"

"No, no," Hermione shook her head, blushing furiously. "It's nothing like that. It's just—" Hermione stopped herself, and Ginny sensed that Hermione was about to say something she'd been dying to talk to someone else about but hadn't had the opportunity.

"Go on," Ginny urged.

"Well, Ron wants to hide things. About us. From your Mum," she began, stammering her way through the words. "I can see his point, of course. We wouldn't get a moment's peace if she knew, would we?"

"Just ask Angelina if you don't think that's true. Mum would probably sleep outside Ron's bedroom door if she knew."

"Well, so, it's sensible then, isn't it? Hiding our relationship?" Hermione still sounded uncertain.

"If it's so sensible, why do you seem so upset about it?" Ginny asked, hoping to get to the heart of the matter.

"Do you think your mother would think I'm good enough for Ron?" Hermione blurted out, the words running together in her nervousness.

"Would she think you're what? Are you joking?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"It's just—well, you remember my fourth year, when the Daily Prophet reported that Harry and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, and then that I was cheating on him with Viktor. Your mother believed that! What if she still thinks—"

"Hermione, that was a load of rubbish and Mum knows it. I think it's ridiculous she ever believed it in the first place."

Hermione seemed to consider this, but she wasn't finished yet. "Well, there's my parents," Hermione continued.

"I've met your parents, Hermione. They're lovely," Ginny told her. "A bit quiet, but who wouldn't be a little shy around our lot? Meeting Fred and George alone would be enough to send most Muggles 'round the bend."

"No, no. That's not what I mean. They're Muggles. I'm Muggle-born. The Weasleys are one of the oldest wizarding families still in existence. I just don't know if—"

"If you're about to say that you think anyone in my family gives a newt's backside that we stay 'pure-blood', I simply can't be held accountable for my actions. We're not Slytherins, you know."

Hermione looked horrified. "I didn't mean to insult—"

"I know you didn't, Hermione. I just said it that way so you would hear how silly it is. Now, is there some other reason you think my brother isn't the luckiest git at Hogwarts? Because I can't think of any." Hermione blushed again, and on an impulse, Ginny stood up and gave her a hug. "We'd be lucky to have you in our family."

Ginny pulled away, and Hermione brushed back a tear from each eye. Ginny wondered if anyone else at Hogwarts other than she, Ron, and Harry knew exactly how sentimental Hermione could be.

"Well, enough of that, then," Hermione said, trying to affect a more businesslike tone. "I believe I was about to ask for your help, wasn't I?"

"Oh, that," Ginny said, trying to sound casual. "If you think I could help, I'd be glad to."

"I'll tell you about the rest of the meeting later, but there are a few things we can go over quickly while the details are still fresh in my mind. First, I think it's important that you know where your father's been. He's going to return tomorrow, you know, to be replaced by one of the other members of the Order." Hermione leaned in, as though she was afraid someone would overhear them. "The three Aurors who were with me in France have been found. They escaped from the Death Eaters who were holding them hostage a little over a week ago. They managed to Floo a message to Kingsley Shacklebolt, who put together a team to help them return to England."

"And my father was there?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. He was with Kingsley and Hestia Jones. Dumbledore sent the three of them to bring back the Aurors after it was clear their injuries made it impossible for them to travel on their own. Oh, and that reminds me. Hestia Jones is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She seems quite capable, and Dumbledore must trust her immensely to send her on such an important mission."

"How did you find that out?"

"I overheard Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Hestia Jones talking before the meeting. Snape's simply mad with envy, of course. Professor McGonagall seems to think it's a fine idea, though, and that's all I need to know."

"Perhaps we'll finally have another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who's worth staying awake for. Thank goodness," Ginny said, and Hermione nodded her agreement. "But, back to what you were saying before."

"Right. Well, by the time they found the Aurors, they were all unconscious, knocked out from the injuries they sustained during their escape. Your father had to arrange for alternate transportation to get them to St. Mungo's."

"So, is one of them the traitor, or not?" Ginny asked, finally losing the war with her patience.

"We don't know. They haven't been able to wake any of them. There will be a member of the Order guarding them at all times until they regain consciousness and we can determine if any of them were the traitor or not. Your father took the first shift, and should be returning tomorrow."

"So, who are these people, Hermione?" Ginny guided her, dying to know more.

"Well, first, there's Reilly Carroll. A bit brash, that one," Hermione told her. "He was a Gryffindor in school. Charlie may have known him, but they would have to have been at least four years apart. I got on quite well with Reilly. He reminded me a bit of Harry. A little reckless, perhaps, but I always felt safe when he was on guard duty."

"Charlie's due to come home for a visit. Perhaps we can talk to him about Reilly then."

"Ah, I didn't know that. We really should."

"All right, who's next?" Ginny asked. 

"Well, there's Albrecht Quinn. He was a bit older than the others. He went to Hogwarts around the same time that Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Harry's father did; I believe he was three years behind them. He was in Ravenclaw, so he didn't know them very well. He got some of the highest marks ever awarded on his NEWTs, and still holds the highest score for the Auror Academy entry exam. Reilly told me that, and I got the impression he was a bit jealous of Albrecht."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Jealous? Did he seem—"

"Oh, no. Nothing sinister. It was the same sort of feeling I get when someone else gets a higher mark on an exam than I do."

"And when did that happen?" Ginny teased her. "Once, in the last six years?"

Hermione ignored that and moved on to her description of the last Auror. "Finally, there's Emilie Brice. She was rather distant. Extremely skilled, but not particularly easy to talk to."

"Let me guess. Slytherin?"

"Well, yes, as it happens. Not the way Malfoy is a Slytherin, though. She knew I was Muggle-born and it didn't seem to bother her. She may not have been particularly friendly, but we spoke enough that I feel she's loyal to the Order."

"I don't know, Hermione. I can't think of a single Slytherin at school who I would trust with my life."

"If you met Emilie, you'd probably feel differently. No one I know hates Voldemort in quite the way Emilie does." Hermione seemed to see the skeptical look on Ginny's face, and she explained further. "She's proud to be a Slytherin. She's ambitious, and extremely dedicated to fighting the Dark Arts. She feels Voldemort and his band of thugs have nearly ruined the chances for any Slytherin to get the respect they deserve in the wizarding world. She's dedicated her life to eradicating the Dark Arts and showing people that not all Slytherins are evil."

Ginny relented, finding that if she looked deep down within herself, she couldn't possibly believe all Slytherins were evil. While she didn't particularly get on with any of them at school, most of them weren't the blatant Voldemort supporters that Malfoy was.

"Fair enough, Hermione. We can't assume the traitor was a Slytherin. You're right."

"We can't even assume the traitor was an Auror. There are still the four researchers, and they haven't been found yet. So, if you have some time, let's go over the details. Perhaps you'll see something I missed."


	9. Late Night at Grimmauld Place

Harry let his head fall back onto the pillow behind him, and was rewarded with a cloud of dust surrounding his head. He coughed, trying to clear his throat, and the Silver Snitch flitted away from him.

" _Penna Revenio_ ," he said, pointing his wand at it, and it began to sail toward him. His eyes followed it until it was suddenly plucked out of the air by a small, nimble hand.

"What are you doing up?" Ginny asked him.

"Can't sleep," Harry said guardedly. He wasn't sure if Ginny was still angry with him.

"Me neither. My mind, I just can't shut it off," Ginny gave him a smile, and Harry warmed at the thought that she was no longer upset with him. At least, she wasn't so angry that she wasn't speaking to him.

"No, I mean, I can't go to sleep. Hermione came to talk to Ron about an hour ago, and I think they're having it out. I left right away. That can't be a pleasant conversation."

"Oh, thank goodness. Can you just tell me if he had the good sense to apologize?"

"I went over it with him while we were playing Chess. He was so preoccupied with this whole mess that I beat him. That's only the fourth or fifth time that's ever happened."

"Please tell me you told him the right thing to say to her."

Harry panicked. He hadn't considered that he might have given Ron completely the wrong advice. "Erm, I told him to apologize to her again, but this time, tell her that he was sorry for making her feel as though he didn't have confidence in her."

Ginny sighed in a relieved sort of way. "Oh, I'm glad one of you has some sense, at least."

"You had me worried there for a moment, Ginny. I thought I might have made things worse," he paused for a moment, because he knew what he should do next, but he wanted to make sure he said the right thing. "Ginny, I owe you the same apology. What I said upstairs, it's just because I care about the three of you. I know it might sound daft, but I didn't say those things to hurt you. I'd like to do just the opposite, really, but I'm afraid I've mucked things up."

"It's all right, Harry. I understand." Ginny leaned against the back of an uncomfortable-looking chair. "It's so quiet," she said, looking around. "Who's here?"

"Still just Mundungus. Your mother's at St. Mungo's with your dad." Harry didn't tell Ginny that he had his doubts about their current guard. He still didn't know where Mundungus had been during the meeting, but he was acting oddly secretive since his return. Harry didn't really trust him enough to go upstairs and go to sleep.

"Ah, so that's why Ron and Hermione can get away with being alone. Mundungus will never notice."

"At least they're not fighting anymore. Blimey, I thought once they'd finally admitted they were in love with each other the rows would calm down."

"Oh, Harry. That'll never happen. They'll just make up differently."

Harry pulled a face, and frowned harder as Ginny laughed at him. "Please, I used to think of them as the brother and sister I never had. Thinking about the two of them making up..."

"You think you have it difficult? Ron actually _is_ my brother."

Harry shuddered a bit, playing it up to amuse Ginny, and he was rewarded with a laugh.

"Well, I was wondering if I would find Hermione down here, but as she's not...well, I'll see you tomorrow, Harry."

"Wait, Ginny," Harry said, and he found himself not entirely sure what he should say next. He just knew he didn't want her to leave yet. "Why didn't you write to me more often?"

"Why didn't I what?"

Harry felt quite silly, but he'd said the first thing that occurred to him and he had little choice but to pursue it now.

"It's just—every letter I got from you this summer really helped me. Ron writes and it's all about Quidditch. Hermione writes to remind me to be careful or to start working on my summer essays. But you—you wrote about everything. When you wrote, I found out what you had for breakfast, what the weather was like, what you were thinking about. I know it sounds selfish because I didn't write to you often enough, but I wish you'd sent more owls." Harry wasn't sure what had possessed him. Perhaps it was the late hour, or maybe it was Ginny herself. Something about looking directly into her eyes seemed to extract the truth from him, even if it was the last thing he wanted to admit to.

Ginny's cheeks reddened and she looked away from him. "I—well—I didn't know. I didn't think you'd care one way or the other."

"What d'you mean, you thought I wouldn't care?"

"Well, Harry. I know I'm not Ron or Hermione. I didn't think you'd want to be bothered—"

"I don't need another Ron or another Hermione. What I need—"

"Maybe that's not the right way to put it. I didn't think you'd notice one way or the other."

Harry stood up, and he watched Ginny take in a quick breath as he moved toward her. He got within two paces of her, and forced himself to stop. "Apparently, I did notice one way or the other."

Ginny looked terribly flustered, and Harry felt the same way himself. "Harry," she whispered, and he'd never heard his name said in quite that way. He waited, holding his breath, to see if she'd close those last steps between them.

Something very different was happening, nothing like being with Cho. Everything with Cho felt contrived, like she was choreographing some kind of complex dance. Spending time with Ginny felt completely natural. Sure, he felt nervous around her. He could feel what being near to her did to him; it was as if his entire body forgot how to function normally. It didn't feel strange or uncomfortable, though. This just seemed to be the way he was supposed to be around Ginny.

If they still knew each other twenty years from now, would he still feel the same way?

"Well," Ginny said, a bit too loudly, "I was just looking for Hermione. As she's not here, I expect I should go back upstairs. Perhaps I can stay awake long enough to catch her when she finally leaves your room."

Harry felt a bit disappointed as Ginny abruptly changed the subject, but he didn't want to push her. Hermione told him a long time ago that Ginny was over him. Perhaps it was true, and the whole thing was just in his head.

"Why did you need Hermione again?" Harry asked, stalling for time. Just because she was over him didn't mean he wanted her to go.

"It's nothing really. I mean, I—" Ginny stammered, and Harry got the idea he'd stumbled upon something.

"Ginny, what is it? Are you all right?"

"It's nothing like that. I'm fine. I was just lying in bed, trying to go to sleep, and I just couldn't stop thinking about something. I thought perhaps Hermione could help me."

"Well, I don't know what it was, but if I could help you instead, you know I—"

"I don't think so, Harry. You see, it's just, well, Hermione trusts me. Of everyone I know, I think she's the person who trusts me the most. I'm just..." Ginny looked down at the floor, and Harry could feel how conflicted Ginny was.

"You're just, what, Ginny?"

"I'm just not sure why she does." Ginny covered her mouth. "I can't believe I just told you that. I've been wailing all day that no one trusts me, and now I've gone and told you that I don't think I deserve it."

"Is this about the Chamber of Secrets again?" Harry asked, trying to guess what was bothering her to save her from having to admit it to him.

"Of course it is. Do you think I'll ever stop feeling awful about that? I nearly got Hermione killed. I mean, anyone could have been killed, but if Hermione wasn't so clever, she'd be gone. If she hadn't used that mirror—"

"But she did. She's fine. She's upstairs, and as safe as any of us are. Ginny, please don't make me point out that when I was wrong and dragged everyone to the Department of Mysteries, someone _did_ die," his voice broke as he heard himself put it in such simple terms, standing right here in Sirius' house. "It could have been much worse back in your first year."

"It's different, though, Harry. When you led us to the Department of Mysteries, you thought you were saving Sirius. You went there for noble reasons. I wrote in that diary and let Tom Riddle manipulate me just because I'm weak."

"No, Ginny. You were vulnerable to him because we ignored you. If I hadn't been so blind, if only I'd seen what a brilliant girl you are, you wouldn't have been lonely enough to need that diary."

Ginny still looked a bit uncertain, but she blushed at Harry's compliment. "I've apologized to Colin, you know. And Justin. I've nearly told Hermione how terrible I feel a thousand times, but I've go so much more to lose with her. Honestly, she's a great friend. I'm afraid if I remind her—"

"Hermione would never hold it against you. I doubt she even thinks about it. She knows you for who you are now, not for a mistake you made when you were a first year."

"Perhaps you're right," she said, but she still seemed uncertain.

"You might feel better if you just talked about this with Hermione. Believe me, she'll set you straight. Hermione's not very subtle about these things. You'll probably feel a thousand times better."

He finally got a full, brilliant smile from her, and he found himself grinning dumbly back. Harry patted the cushion next to him, trying to entice Ginny into sitting with him for awhile.

"I suppose I'm not that tired," she said, and sat carefully on the couch next to him. Harry frowned a bit as he saw how far away she was, but it was a start.

" _Incendio_ ," he said, pointing his wand at the fireplace, and a gentle, crackling fire appeared.

They took turns catching the Silver Snitch, Harry issuing the recall spell if it got too far away. When Ginny got too sleepy and lost her coordination, Harry walked her up the stairs and to the door of her room.

"'Night, Harry," she said, and yawned widely.

"Good night, Ginny." He stalled for a moment, and then followed his instincts before he could stop himself. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, brushing sideways toward her lips as he pulled away.

He turned to go back downstairs before he could see her reaction. He wasn't sure he could take it if she seemed unaffected, especially considering how quickly his own heart was beating.


	10. The Wizard's Index

Ginny sprinted up to her room to retrieve a book from her trunk and found Hermione sitting cross-legged on her own bed, a half-dozen books fanned out around her with one large, empty book in the center.

"Sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to interrupt you," Ginny told her, as Hermione's head snapped upward at Ginny's arrival. "I just need one book and I'll—"

"No, no, Ginny. It's nothing. Don't worry, you're not interrupting a thing," Hermione said, her voice high and suspiciously light.

"Hermione," Ginny began, slowly. "If I were talking to anyone else, I would be convinced you were trying to hide something from me."

"Really. There's nothing to hide."

Now Ginny _knew_ something was going on.

"Hermione, what have you got there?"

Hermione looked torn, as if half of her wanted to hide whatever it was she was working on and the other half longed to spill the truth.

"Ginny, what's taking so bloody long? I'm sure Harry needs that book, but it's your move. C'mon, the Chess pieces are starting to get restless down there. My castle is really giving your queen the eye and I can't be held responsible—" Ron interrupted himself as he rounded the corner into the bedroom and became silent his gaze passed over Hermione.

Just for a second, Ginny tried to see Hermione through Ron's eyes. Hermione's hair was restrained in two barrettes, but it seemed to be trying to fight its way out of them. Her eyes were wide with pretended innocence, and it had become so obvious to Ginny that Hermione was up to something that she was sure Ron would be able to see it too. Hermione's shorts had ridden up on her thighs, and Ginny could see what quite nice legs her friend had. Apparently, Ron noticed them as well, because he was staring dumbly at Hermione with that glazed look on his face.

"I was just asking Hermione why she was reading so many books at the same time. I know you're quite brilliant, Hermione, but even for you, eight books open at the same time seems a bit much."

"Oh, well, you know. I'm just doing a spot of research," Hermione answered, again with exaggerated innocence.

"Is it something that will help Harry?" Ron asked her, crossing to the bed. He removed a book and Hermione frowned at him, but she smiled wearily at him when he sat down where the book had been and then replaced the book in his lap.

"It could," Hermione said, just a bit mysteriously.

"Ginny, do you need help finding that book?" Harry asked, appearing through the doorway.

"Honestly, can't a girl get a little privacy?" Hermione asked them, just a bit huffily. "I was making progress before you all had to come in here."

"She's working on something to help you, Harry," Ron said, and Ginny rolled her eyes. Hermione had just asked them all to leave without actually spelling it out, and Ron seemed to have missed it entirely.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, cocking his head and regarding his friend as she sat, surrounded by her books.

Hermione sighed loudly in response, and Ginny took this as her cue to help.

"Listen, Ron. Let's get back to our game. Hermione needs some quiet, and I think—"

"No, Ginny, never mind. You were all bound to discover it in time." Hermione rubbed her eyes with her fingers, and Ginny could see her fatigue. Ron scooted closer to her and gently rubbed her shoulder, and Ginny was glad to see him being so supportive. "Harry, you've been to a Muggle library, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah. In school, before I came to Hogwarts."

"Did you ever use the card catalog?"

"I suppose so," Harry shrugged.

"I've always wondered why wizard libraries don't have something similar. It takes simply forever to find anything there. You practically have to have the books memorized to find what you're looking for."

Ginny barely suppressed the urge to run forward and cover her brother's mouth. She could sense how close he was to saying something very daft indeed, and she could see the rest of the afternoon being dominated by a towering row. Against all odds, Ron merely smirked a bit and continued to look at his girlfriend. Perhaps he was mesmerized by her legs, which was fine as long as it kept his mouth shut.

"Anyway, I know it will take forever, but I'm working on an index. I'm starting with the books I've found most useful myself, like _Hogwarts, A History_ , _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , each year's _Standard Book of Spells_ ,and I've borrowed your copy of _Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts_ , Harry. I hope you don't mind."

Hermione seemed to be waiting for their reaction, looking at each of them in turn.

"Well, I think that's brilliant, Hermione," Ginny said, feeling she had to say something to break the silence. It actually did sound like an incredibly useful idea, but as Ginny thought about the size of the Hogwarts library, she realized Hermione could spend every day of the rest of her life working on this project and still never see it finished.

Ginny walked to Harry as subtly as she could and poked him in the back with her finger. He jumped a bit in response, and she could have smacked him for being so thick. He had to say something, and soon, or risk hurting Hermione's feelings.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry asked, and Ginny felt this, at least, was better than his silence.

"Well, I don't know, exactly," Hermione said, playing with the bedcovers where they peeked up between her books. "I suppose it seemed like a dreadfully boring hobby. I know it doesn't seem as entertaining as Wizard's Chess or Quidditch—"

"But it's tons more useful," Harry interrupted. "It's certainly more practical to work categorizing centuries of wizarding knowledge than it is to chase the Snitch around."

Ron looked at Harry as if he'd just gone completely mad, and Ginny had to admit that Harry's speech had taken her completely by surprise as well. She'd wanted Harry to encourage Hermione, but she certainly hadn't wanted him to swear off Quidditch.

"Entertainment is important too, Harry. Don't underestimate it. We all need a bit of time to forget and put some fun back into our lives. I can't tell you how proud I am at those matches, watching the three of you fly for the honor of Gryffindor."

"So, it's all important, then," Harry said to Hermione, walking to her and putting his hand on her shoulder. "If there's anything we can do to help..."

"I'll let you know, Harry. Right now, I think I have to do this alone. I'm still trying to work out the details, and I think it's better if I keep a close handle on things. I'm still perfecting the charm on this book," she tapped the large, empty book in front of her, "to get it to work properly. When it's done, you'll just have to tap the book with your wand, tell it what you're looking for, and you'll get a list of books that might help you."

Ginny's heart flew as she saw how happy Harry's words had made Hermione. Ron was almost certainly about to start teasing Hermione before Harry spoke, and, at the very least, Harry had saved them all from another Ron-Hermione row. Best of all, Ginny saw again how much Harry loved his friends and how important their happiness was to him.

"It's great, Hermione," Ron said, and leaned forward to give her a gentle kiss. Hermione blushed and glanced quickly at Harry and Ginny, although she was clearly delighted at Ron's reaction.

"I'm really just hoping for the best," Hermione began. "After all, we could have used the index to find out about Gillyweed for Harry during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Or, how much faster might I have figured out about the Basilisk? I could have seen all the cross-references at once!" Hermione looked at them all triumphantly, and Ginny beamed back.

"Well, Ginny, would you like to finish our game?" Ron asked her.

"Oh, what's the point? We both know you're eight moves away from checkmating me. Can't we just take the rest as a given?"

Ron frowned at her, looking disappointed to have his moment of victory cut short. Ginny turned back to her trunk, found the book she'd been looking for, and whispered to Harry as she handed it to him.

"Harry, can you play him? I need to talk to Hermione," she said, careful to keep her voice low. Harry gave her a meaningful look, and Ginny nodded to him. She felt a little thrill as she realized they'd just had a conversation with each other without speaking a word. He'd silently asked her if this was _the_ conversation with Hermione that Ginny had spoken to him about the night before and Ginny had confirmed it, all without a syllable spoken aloud.

"All right, Ron. We'll reset the pieces and you can teach me about the latest strategies you've been working on," Harry told him, and he pushed Ron from the room to leave the two girls alone.

Ginny stood, feeling a bit uncomfortable, as she didn't know quite how to start. She didn't want to back down now that she'd finally gotten her courage up, but she didn't just want to blurt it out either.

"You really don't think this is dreadfully boring?" Hermione asked her.

Ginny did actually think working on the index would be a bit boring, but it was the type of thing Hermione would find fascinating and she felt she should be supportive.

"Of course not. I think it could be incredibly useful. Maybe you'll have it done in time for my NEWTs."

"Well, I suppose I should—"

"Listen, Hermione. As long as we've interrupted you already, perhaps I could have just a minute of your time." Ginny took a deep breath, as she knew she had just begun the conversation she'd been dreading.

"Yes, of course. What is it?"

"Maybe it's a bit silly, I know, but it's really been on my mind. I just—well, I wanted to apologize."

"Why on earth would you need to apologize? I can't think of—"

"I nearly got you killed," Ginny choked out, and she was surprised at how upset she was to think about this mess again.

"You—when? What are you talking about?"

"The Basilisk. The Chamber of Secrets. You were petrified. We were lucky you weren't killed."

"Ginny, you truly aren't still thinking about that, are you? I know that wasn't you doing those things. It was Voldemort. We all know that."

"You—you were almost killed, and you can just forgive me? Just like that?"

"I never considered it your fault, Ginny. He took advantage of you, twisted things. It's the same way he keeps his Death Eaters in line. All he can touch in anyone else is fear, or a desire for power or acceptance. We have so much more binding us together than those petty things." Hermione got a far-away look in her eyes, and Ginny could almost see the wheels turning in Hermione's head.

"Hermione? What is it? Did you—"

"Hmmm. It could be nothing, but I've just had an idea. I need to think about it more, though. For now, please don't worry about this anymore."

"Now I really know I have to keep my eyes on that git of a brother of mine. If he botches things up with you, you'll never be my sister and I just can't have that."

Ginny turned and left Hermione with her project, feeling as though she'd climbed a mountain only to discover it was the simplest thing imaginable.


	11. Lessons Learned from Wizard's Chess

Ron's hand stilled on his knight, and Harry wondered if Ron would let the move stick or if he would take it back. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought that moving the knight to where Ron had moved it might greatly enhance Harry's chances of winning.

If it was a bad move, it was hardly Ron's fault, really. Harry would feel guilty if he defeated Ron twice at Chess in as many days just because Ron was preoccupied. Ginny kept finding excuses to pass by the table and it appeared she was trying to throw the Chess game in Harry's favor.

Not two minutes ago, she'd walked by and asked Ron, "So, what did you tell Hermione when you apologized to her?"

Ron was so engrossed in the game that he actually began to answer, then caught himself and took it back. Ginny's question had obviously affected him, because when he looked back at his Wizard's Chess pieces, he frowned a bit before he tentatively reached out for three different pieces in turn before deciding on the knight. Ron almost never appeared indecisive in the midst of a game, and when he did, Harry felt it was just an act Ron used to distract his opponent.

"Ron? Is that your move or not?"

"It's not official until I remove my hand. I just need to see—" Ron stopped himself. "Ah!" Ron exclaimed. "Nope, I was just kidding." Ron moved the knight back to where it had been, and picked up his remaining bishop. He moved it four squares in a diagonal, putting it closer to Harry's queen and into a formation with Ron's castle and three pawns that Harry recognized well.

"I can't believe I let you do that," Harry groaned. "It's all over, isn't it?"

"Well, five or six moves unless you move your queen out of the way of your own accord, or don't bother to sacrifice those two pawns before I can finally take your king."

"Blimey, Ron. How did I not see that coming? I was looking over here," Harry pointed to a different part of the board, where several of Ron's pieces were making faces at him, "and the game was really happening over here."

"So do you—"

"Yes, I concede," Harry said, rolling his eyes at the exaggerated look of triumph on Ron's face. "There was really no question, was there? I mean, yesterday was a fluke, wasn't it?"

Ron flinched at the memory of his recent loss to Harry. "Well, you didn't cheat."

"You were preoccupied, though." Harry looked around to make sure Ginny wasn't in the room, as Ron wouldn't say a word if his sister might overhear it. "Did you get things straightened out with Hermione? It certainly seems that you have, but I was just curious."

"Oh, sure. You were right. I did owe her an apology. It's just—Harry, the thought of something happening to her drives me mad. You remember France, yeah? She was just lying there in that cabin, all tied up and so still. For a moment, I was afraid she was—"

"Let's not talk about that," Harry interrupted. He didn't want to think about how close they'd come to losing Hermione, and the thought of Hermione or Ginny in a similar situation again made Harry want to leave the house immediately and either destroy Voldemort or die trying.

"Right," Ron said, gulping as though he could somehow swallow down all his worries for Hermione and force them to go away. "Erm, I suppose we could talk about Quidditch."

"Please, no more talk about the Cannons," Harry said, with mock seriousness.

"No, no. I don't want to talk about them. Bloody useless Keeper on the Cannons right now anyway. Not much point. I wanted to talk about Gryffindor's team."

Harry perked up at this. Talking about Ron's favorite team for the millionth time was one thing, but talking about their own chances to win the cup in their last year was quite another.

"Go on," Harry said, eager to hear what Ron had been thinking.

"Well, I have some formations I wanted to speak to you about. I've been working them out all summer. I have some of them written out on bits of parchment upstairs. Can you wait?" Ron stood up to go upstairs, but Harry stopped him before he could get too far away.

"Why do you want to speak to _me_ about them?"

"Oh, come on, Harry. You're a lock for Quidditch captain. You've got seniority over everyone else on the team. Six years of playing beats any of us by a mile. You're the best Seeker in the school. Why wouldn't McGonagall make you captain?" Ron flashed Harry a smile, and sprinted upstairs to retrieve the parchments.

Ginny appeared from just outside the door as Ron left, and Harry wondered how long she'd been hovering there.

"Ginny, you haven't been eavesdropping now, have you?"

"Honestly, Harry!" Ginny said, looking at him with a hurt look on her face. "Not on purpose, anyway." At Harry's look of disbelief, she began to defend herself. "Really! I started to come in just as you were asking him about Hermione, and I didn't want to keep him from answering you. I can't help it if I needed something in here, though, so I was just waiting until a better time to come in."

Harry believed her, but he was enjoying the way her cheeks were flushing with embarrassment. "I don't know, Ginny. Seems a bit shifty to me."

"Oh, fine," Ginny said, sounding a bit put out. Harry didn't want to start a row, and he realized he might have taken things too far.

"No, you're right," he told her. "Ron would never have answered me about Hermione if you'd walked in just then. Thanks for waiting to come in."

"Oh, forget it, Harry. I _was_ eavesdropping. I'm the youngest of seven children. Old habits die hard." Ginny shrugged at him, and Harry laughed.

"Don't ever let me say that you're dishonest. I would never have admitted to that, myself."

"As long as I've admitted it, I may as well tell you that I think you'll make a brilliant Quidditch captain. I just hope you keep me on as a Chaser."

"Are you mad? You're the best Chaser on the team. Probably the best in the school." Ginny blushed again at this, and Harry wasn't quite sure how to name the feeling it gave him to see how just a few words from him could affect her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. That fourth year playing for Hufflepuff, what's her name? She's absolutely brilliant."

"I'd put you up against her any day," Harry said emphatically, and Ginny beamed at him. "I'm really glad Ron's been working on these strategies, though. If McGonagall does make me captain, I'm not prepared for it at all at the moment."

"Oh, Ron's been drawing up strategies since before we were in school. He must have a hundred bits of parchment in his trunk with formations on them."

"Why didn't he ever tell anyone before? We could have used a few new ideas in that last game we had against Ravenclaw last year."

"Frankly, I'm shocked he's mentioning it now. I thought he'd keep them a secret forever. Whenever I catch him working on them, he pretends he's doing something else."

Something about this situation tickled the back of Harry's mind. Ron's strategies had to be brilliant. If he used half of his Chess strategy skills to draw up formations for Quidditch, the team would probably be unbeatable. Six solid years of being pasted by Ron at the Wizard's Chess board would teach anyone that.

Finally, the thought crystallized in his mind. Ron should be Quidditch captain. 

_He's done all the work,_ Harry thought. _He's obsessed with the game, and he's watched it since before he could walk._

Ron chose that moment to reappear, his hands full of oddly shaped bits of parchment.

"Sorry. I checked in on Hermione first while I was up there. Still working on that index of hers. Do you know she has about fifteen books open around her? How can she keep track of anything?"

"Well, if anyone can, it's Hermione," Ginny said. Harry realized he hadn't asked Ginny how her talk with Hermione went, and he made a mental note to do so sometime soon.

Ron gathered Harry and Ginny around the table and showed them some of the strategies he'd been working on. Several of them elicited a "wow" from Ginny, or a low whistle from Harry.

"This one's brilliant," Ginny said, holding a scrap of parchment aloft. "You have no idea how difficult it is to say that about you, my own daft brother."

"Not as good as this one," Harry said, finally understanding the formation he was looking at. "The real attack comes from back here, yeah?" Harry said, pointing to a cluster of ink and showing it to Ron.

"Well, yes," Ron answered, turning redder than the heavy velvet curtains that covered the windows behind them. "Sorry most of them don't include the Seeker, Harry. You've got other things to worry about during a game."

Without really knowing it, Ron had made excellent point. How could Harry be an effective captain of the team while he was busy looking for the Snitch? Sometimes his job seemed so removed from the rest of the game, and he usually lost track of the action on the rest of the field while he was scanning for the Snitch. Oliver, who'd been the best captain Harry had flown under, used to bark orders at them constantly during a match. How could anyone think Harry could take on that responsibility along with finding the elusive Snitch?

It was settled, then. The next time McGonagall was on guard duty at Grimmauld Place, Harry resolved to speak to her about making Ron next year's Gryffindor Quidditch captain.

"Ron, would you like to work on your summer Herbology essay?" Hermione called from the stairs. Ron's head snapped up at the sound of her voice, but the hopeful look on his face died away as he heard her say 'Herbology essay.'

"Oh, all right," Ron said, dully. "I suppose I have to finish it sometime." Ron looked back to Harry. "Would you like to keep these for a bit? I don't mind—"

"I'd feel better if you kept them. I don't want to take the chance of losing one."

"Well, if you want to look at them, just let me know. We just have to win the cup, Harry. Anything I can do to help." Ron gathered his strategies together and walked upstairs, joining Hermione on the landing. Something about the way she was looking at Ron told Harry that Hermione might not just be thinking about Herbology.

"Those were—" Harry began, and then stopped, unable to come up with a word to describe what they'd just seen on Ron's little slips of parchment.

"Bloody brilliant," Ginny finished for him, and Harry nodded.

Harry gestured back to the Wizard's Chess board, hoping Ginny might want to play. It was much better to play against Ginny than Ron, really. Harry felt he and Ginny were more evenly matched, so he actually had a chance at winning. Ginny also was a little more fun to play with, as she was more apt to joke around than Ron was.

"Come on, Ginny. There's not much else to do."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't know, Harry. Ron and Hermione are probably finding other things to do."

Ginny's voice echoed in Harry's head, her tones low and deep, and he was having trouble thinking straight. Was she just teasing him about his two best friends doing things he didn't want to think about, or was she making a suggestion? He blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision, which had become a bit blurry as he stared silently at Ginny.

"Oh, all right then," Ginny continued. "I get to be the white pieces."

The white king turned around and made a face at Ginny. "Not you again. You got my head taken off last time."

"Ah, but I'm playing against a different person now, aren't I?" Ginny told the piece, bending toward the board and shaking her finger at the tiny piece, which was now shaking his sword back at her.

Harry took his wand out of his pocket and waved it at the board to reset the pieces, and then he pulled out the chair on the white side of the board for Ginny before taking the chair across from her.

"Thanks, Harry," she told him, and he thought she actually might be blushing a bit.

"Sure, Ginny," he said, and then cleared his throat before continuing. His voice just didn't sound like his own. "Besides, it's the least I can do before I wipe up the table with you."

Ginny's eyes flashed at him for a moment before they returned to normal. With her eyes still fixed on him, she reached down to one of her middle pawns and moved it forward two spaces.

"Hmm. I don't know. It's a bold move, that."

"Oh, shut it and take your turn," she told him, giggling as she took her hand off the pawn.

Harry pretended to agonize over his move before he took the pawn directly across from the one Ginny had started with, and moved it forward to the space directly in front of Ginny's forward pawn.

Ginny took her rightmost knight and moved it just behind and to the right of her pawn. Harry hesitated for a moment before he even reached for the board, resting his chin in his hand.

"Do you second-guess yourself as much as I do?" Harry asked. "I mean, I feel as though I'm already missing something."

"It's an unfortunate side-effect from playing against my brother."

Harry shrugged, then echoed Ginny's last move exactly. "I'm sure I've already made a horrible mistake."

"If I were Ron, you probably would have."

Harry heard a possible response in his mind, and found himself wondering if he should say it. He decided to do it before he could talk himself out of it.

"But if you were Ron, the view wouldn't be nearly as nice." It didn't sound that bad, now that he heard it aloud.

Ginny blushed as she reached for her next piece, the remaining knight that she hadn't moved yet. She moved it forward and toward the middle, and Harry knew what Ginny was hoping his next move would be. He let his hand waver over the knight in his back row, brushing the knight's helmet and eliciting an indignant wail from the piece. Just as he saw the smirk appearing at the corners of Ginny's mouth, he reached for the bishop next to the knight instead.

"Why did you kiss me, Harry?" Ginny asked, and Harry nearly choked on his own tongue as he knocked over half of the pieces in his back row with a jerk of his arm.

"What?" Harry sputtered, looking at his chess pieces lying on their sides, all complaining loudly to him and threatening to mutiny as they scrambled to their feet and returned to their rightful spaces.

"It's a simple question, really. I didn't mean to make you knock over half the board." Ginny was grinning slyly at him now, and he could see what she was trying to do.

"Listen, I saw how you kept trying to distract Ron for me earlier. It's not that I didn't appreciate it, but can you please stop trying to use the same trick on me?"

"Oh, all right. I'll play it straight."

Ginny urged her bishop forward to the space just in front of Harry's. Harry immediately moved his forward knight between Ginny's bishop and pawn, and she frowned at him.

"What are you doing, Harry?" she asked him, squinting at Harry's knight as it proudly tipped his head to her.

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Ginny's hand flew to her next move, and he lost his forward pawn to Ginny's rightmost knight. She smiled triumphantly at him, as if the game was well in hand.

"Not exactly checkmate now, is it?" he asked her.

"All I know is that I now officially have one more piece than you. So, let's see your next big move."

Harry reached for his queen, who cried out in protest as he poked her forward four spaces diagonally to Harry's left. The furrow on Ginny's brow deepened.

She used her forward knight to knock out another of Harry's pawns, this one very near his king. The king looked back at Harry in panic.

"Oh, calm down. You know as well as I do that the knight can't take you from there." Nevertheless, Ginny's knight sneered at Harry's king, and Harry was struck by how much the knight resembled Snape when it did so. "Collecting pawns, Ginny? You know, that's not how you win."

Harry nudged his queen in the back again and she stormed forward, brutally taking a pawn in Ginny's front row.

Ginny gasped, and quickly moved her castle over to the left to guard her king.

Harry surveyed the board, knowing there were a few different ways he could progress from this point. He picked up the pawn just to the right and in front of his king, and lifted it to move it forward.

"Really, Harry. Did you mean to kiss my cheek, or did you just miss?"

The pawn fell out of Harry's hand and clattered to the board, rolling for a moment before it picked itself up and glared backward at Harry. It shrugged and moved to the space just in front of where it had started, stopping there and crossing its arms.

Harry stared at the board, his heart beating faster in his chest and causing him to feel a bit dizzy.

"I know I was tired, Harry, so I'm just not sure if I'm remembering things correctly," Ginny continued, not taking her eyes off the board. "I thought perhaps I'd moved at the last second." She frowned at two different pieces in turn, a pawn in her front row and her forward knight. 

Just as she seemed to decide on her forward knight, Harry decided that the only way to beat Ginny at her own game was to play it with her.

"Where did you want me to kiss you?"

Ginny's hand shook a bit as she prodded her knight to Harry's back row. She didn't even seem to notice the utter destruction of Harry's left castle.

"Who said I wanted you to kiss me in the first place?" she asked him, but she didn't sound particularly convincing.

Harry swiftly moved his back row bishop forward, ending that move two spaces behind his queen.

"Bloody hell," Ginny muttered under her breath, and she moved her knight backward to guard her king and queen.

Harry's hand was already on his knight when she finally saw what he intended to do. He moved it toward her, near his own queen and bishop. "Checkmate," he whispered, and he could just barely hear the celebration of his pieces over the buzzing in his head.

Their eyes locked over the board, and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He got up and walked to her side, looking down at her and willing her to stand up. When she didn't, he put out his hand for her. She seemed to tear her eyes away from his to stare at his hand, looking at it with a dazed look on her face.

A terrible feeling washed over Harry. He must have been wrong. He thought Ginny was starting to feel the same way about him as he felt about her, but she was acting as though she was trying to think of a nice way to turn him down.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I must have been wrong. I feel like a prat." He turned to walk away from her, desperately needing to be alone. How could he ever face her again?

He heard the bang of wood on wood, and whirled around to see Ginny's chair backward on the floor and Ginny herself rushing toward him.

"You're not wrong, Harry," she told him breathlessly, as she stopped just short of burying herself in his chest.

That was all Harry needed to hear. He took her gently by the shoulders and brought her closer. She tipped her head upward and Harry could see uncertainty written over her features.

"I wanted to do this last night," he told her, needing to reassure her. "I just didn't know—"

"I wanted it too."

He bent his head toward her and everything inside him jumbled together as he lost himself in what it felt like to kiss her. This was not the chaste, mournful kiss he'd shared with Cho. Ginny felt like fire in his hands and against his lips as they moved together. He snaked one hand to the back of her head and twisted his fingers in her long, silky hair, groaning as she clung closer to him in response.

Ginny pulled away and Harry lurched forward a bit at the loss of her.

"Just long enough to rid you of these," she said, pulling his glasses away and putting them carefully down next to the chessboard.

"I can't see you," he told her between kisses.

"They were in my way," she answered. "Besides, I've always wanted to do that."

"Come here," he whispered against her lips as he kissed her again.

"I _am_ here," she protested, after breaking away from him to kiss his neck. Her lips brushed against him as she spoke, and he could feel her voice vibrating directly into him.

Harry wondered if he would be able to stand for much longer. He took her hand, pulling her toward the sofa. He grazed the outstretched leg of an ornate floor lamp with his foot as he walked blindly across the room, knocking it off-balance and sending it toward the floor. Ginny reached out at the last moment and saved it, one arm outstretched and grasping the lamp by its dusty shade.

"Chaser reflexes," he said. "I wonder if they might come in handy some other way."

"You might just find out," she told him, issuing a silent challenge to him with her eyes. She sat on the couch and pulled him down with her. She reclined backward just a bit, forcing Harry to lean over her in order to kiss her again.

She was soft beneath him, but he could also tell how surprisingly strong she was for her size. As she shifted under him, he had to move with her or chance being knocked from the sofa.

Ginny's arms linked around his back, and she pulled him further toward her. The tip of her tongue teased his bottom lip as she opened her mouth to him, and he answered back with his own. Their mouths almost warred with each other now, each fighting to get as close to the other as possible. Ginny used her arms around his shoulders for leverage and he had to swing his legs onto the sofa next to hers to brace himself.

Harry remembered how brilliant it had felt when Ginny kissed his neck, and wondered if she would like the same thing. He tore himself away from her and trailed kisses down her stubborn chin, then underneath to continue the trail behind her ear. She arched against him and he felt a feeling surge within him that he wasn't sure how to control. It was as though he'd momentarily lost the desire to be a separate person from Ginny, and everything between them that kept them apart had become his sworn enemy.

"Harry, bloody—oh, that's amazing," Ginny moaned to him, and Harry slipped his arms underneath her to pull her tightly against him. He could feel the way her body curved, the way she met and matched together with him in a way he never would have guessed was possible.

A loud ' _crack_ ' interrupted them, and although it took a moment for Harry to place the sound, he realized right away what he needed to do. With a great deal of reluctance, he tore himself away from Ginny and sat up.

"I'm sorry, I think that's your mother," Harry told her, feeling terrible to see the confused and hurt look on Ginny's face. He got up and grabbed his glasses, putting them back on and blinking as his vision suddenly cleared.

"Blimey," Ginny breathed. "That was close."

"I have to go," he told her. "Just in case." Ginny looked as though she was about to argue with him, so he continued his explanation. "Ron and Hermione won't realize she's back. They _could_ just be working on Herbology, but you never can tell."

"Go ahead," she told him. "It's best to keep them out of trouble, I suppose."

"That was absolutely brilliant, Ginny," he told her, and then took out his wand and Apparated to the hallway upstairs, just outside the room Ginny shared with Hermione. He paused for a moment before he knocked, wondering why he'd felt he had to Apparate away so quickly after telling her how amazing she was. He meant what he said, but he still felt oddly self-conscious admitting it to her.


	12. Early Morning Confessions

Ginny woke up with the strangest feeling that the entire world had changed around her while she slept. Something felt very different, and as she struggled to fully awaken and regain her sense of reality, she could almost remember what it was.

She rolled over onto her side and heard the familiar rustling of pages which told her Hermione was already awake. She sat up, yawning and stretching her arms behind her back.

"Good morning," she told Hermione, and Hermione's head jerked toward her.

"Oh! Yes, Ginny," Hermione looked around, looking a trifle confused. "I suppose it is."

"How long have you been awake?" Ginny asked, realizing Hermione didn't really know what time it was.

"Just a few hours. I woke up in the middle of the night and had a thought. I think there's a way to catalog this information much more rapidly. I just needed to test it and see if—"

"Hermione, are you getting any actual sleep?"

"Of course I am! I know it seems like I'm always working on this, but—"

"That's because you _are_ nearly always working on it. How is my brother taking it, by the way?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione looked confused, but then realization dawned on her face. "Do you think I'm not spending enough time with him?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is what you and Ron think."

"Oh, it's silly. Ron and I can't spend every waking moment—"

"I'm not sure Ron would agree with you there."

Hermione laughed. "I think you're right."

"He loves you, Hermione. You should have seen him earlier this summer, without you. On second thought, it's probably better that you didn't. Poor pathetic creature." Hermione looked miserable, and Ginny realized she had to reassure her. "You don't have to give up working on the index entirely, Hermione. Just give my poor git of a brother a break now and again, yeah?"

The smile disappeared completely from Hermione's face, and Ginny got a terrible feeling.

"Hermione, you haven't changed your mind about Ron, have you?"

"No! Of course not. It's just..." Hermione trailed off. "You're his sister. I'm sure you don't want to hear about this."

"I may be Ron's sister, but I'm also your friend." Hermione still looked reluctant. "Listen, why don't I just pretend we're talking about someone else long enough for you to tell me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Hermione said, closing the large, empty book she was using to make the Wizard's Index. "It really isn't anything."

"Then why are you so worried? Come on, Hermione. I bet you'll feel better."

"Well, do you remember what we were talking about before? About how your mother doesn't know? You asked me if Ron was asking me to do anything I didn't feel comfortable doing."

"Hermione, if you're about to tell me he's pressuring you, you'll have to hold on for a moment while I go and wake him up so he can watch me hex him into next week."

"No, it's not him," Hermione whispered, just barely loud enough to be audible. "It's me. He's being wonderful. The problem's all with me." Hermione sighed, stacked the books weighing down her legs, and moved them to the floor so she could turn to face Ginny. "It feels so odd to tell you this, but I've really needed someone to talk to."

"Just say it. Don't worry about how it sounds."

"Well...you remember that last Hogsmeade weekend before I left for France, don't you? You must have known something was going on, the way you dragged Harry out of the Three Broomsticks to give Ron some time alone with me."

"Harry did mention something, but nothing specific. I'm not sure he knew anything himself."

"Ron fixed up the Shrieking Shack for us. It was rather sweet, really. He was so afraid it wouldn't be enough for me. Can you imagine that? He worked all night to clean and repair that broken down old house, just for me, and he worried that it wasn't good enough. It was beautiful. He was beautiful." Hermione got a far-away look in her eyes. "I thought perhaps we'd kiss, maybe go a bit further. Then it all hit me, where I was about to go, and what might happen. I thought I might never see him again. So...we just didn't stop. I know we rushed things, but it seemed...I don't know. Right."

"Are you sorry now, though?"

"No! Of course not. I wouldn't trade a second of that day for anything." Hermione picked up a beautiful ebony quill lying on her bedside table. "This is the quill he bought me that morning. I haven't used a different one since." Hermione smiled a mysterious smile. "I love him. I know it's forever. It always had been, and it always will be."

"So, if that's all true, what's the problem?"

"Well, things are back to normal now. Well, as normal as they get, knowing there's a war on, anyway. If it hadn't been for the message charm and the Tree of Blood, I don't think we would have...gone to the Shrieking Shack...by now. We're still figuring things out. I don't regret it. I'm just not sure how things should be now. I don't think Ron is, either."

"Haven't you talked to him about it?"

"No. I don't want him to take it the wrong way. When we're alone, everything he does feels...well, wonderful. I love the way he—" Hermione stopped short at the look on Ginny's face. "Perhaps I should stop there. He is your brother and I'm sure you don't want to hear the specifics. I just...I don't want him to think I'm not attracted to him."

"I understand that. But if you can't talk to him about it, Hermione, do you think you have any business doing anything?"

Hermione seemed to digest that for a moment before saying anything. "How did you get to be so wise, Ginny?" Hermione asked, in a tone that suggested she was only half joking.

"You learn a lot by sitting back and watching."

"Well, that's not what you're doing now. You're right in the thick of things with the rest of us. I know Ron and Harry might not—"

"Bloody hell," Ginny swore under her breath as the events of the previous day flooded back to her. She'd been so caught up in Hermione's problem that she had yet to remember everything that happened with Harry. It seemed like a dream now, but she knew it had been real.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ginny said, trying to cover. She wasn't sure she was quite ready to discuss it yet. She hadn't had an opportunity to talk to Harry again after their kiss, and she had no idea where they stood. After her mum returned from her guard duty at St. Mungo's, Ginny hadn't been able to get Harry alone. She'd caught him looking at her a few times during dinner, and then after dinner as her mum insisted they spend the evening working on the final summer essays they had to complete before September.

"Are you still angry with them for trying to leave you out? I know it's annoying, but they're boys. They're bound to think they have to protect us. It's unfortunately in their nature."

"No, that's not it. In fact, Harry tried to get me invited to that Order meeting the other day." Ginny left out the conversation she'd had with Harry about him trying to exclude all of them, as it was likely to get him in a great deal of trouble with Hermione.

"I think he fancies you, you know. Do you fancy him as well?"

"Hermione!"

"It was just a question. You don't have to answer if you—"

"What makes you think he fancies me?"

"Well," Hermione said, looking around as though there was someone else there to overhear them, "it was the way he was looking at you yesterday."

"How was he looking at me?"

"Like he was starving and you were a mincemeat pie."

Ginny giggled in spite of herself, and her heart was starting to race in exactly the same way it had the afternoon before. She flashed onto how she'd felt as Harry leaned over her, as she'd linked her arms around his back, and as he kissed her behind her ear.

"He didn't," Ginny protested.

"He did, and you're avoiding the question," Hermione looked intrigued, and got up and moved to the foot of Ginny's bed.

"Which question is that?"

"Do you fancy him?" Hermione asked her, enunciating each word clearly and pausing for effect between each one.

"Please, Hermione. How pathetic would I be if I was still nursing a crush from when I was ten?" Ginny wondered why she was denying it, but she couldn't quite make herself admit how impossibly, madly in love she was with Harry.

Hermione stared openly at her, squinting a bit as though she could read Ginny's mind if she concentrated hard enough.

"I do trust you, of course, Ginny, but I'm afraid I don't believe you."

"Oh, sod it, Hermione. How can you always tell when I'm lying?"

"It was just a guess."

"He kissed me yesterday," Ginny confessed, covering her mouth as she heard herself say it aloud.

"Well, I'd say he definitely fancies you then," Hermione said with a laugh.

"I don't know. He didn't say anything like that. Perhaps he's just lonely," Ginny said, voicing her worst fears.

"Harry wouldn't do that," Hermione said, shaking her head violently. "If he kissed you, he meant it."

"I think he did," Ginny said, feeling warmth climbing onto her cheeks. "I'll never look at that sofa the same way again." Both of them laughed together.

"The sofa?" Hermione's eyebrows raised, and all Ginny could do was nod in response. "Come on," Hermione said, tugging at Ginny's arm. "Let's get up. We both have someone we need to talk to."


	13. The Quidditch Captain and the Head Boy

Harry had never sat at a breakfast table for quite this long, he was sure. Everyone seemed to be eating in slow motion. He glanced at the clock in the hallway, just visible through the doorway, and found that only fifteen minutes had actually passed since they all sat down to eat.

It just wasn't possible. Time had never moved this slowly, not even when Hermione turned it backward at the end of their third year.

He glanced across the table at Ginny, who looked quickly down at her oatmeal when he did. She smiled a bit, and then raised her head to look back at him. He felt a little jolt go through him as their eyes met. He hadn't been able to get a moment alone with her since the previous afternoon, and although he had no clue what he was going to say to her, the uncertainty was going to drive him mad.

"Pass the eggs, please, won't you Harry?" Ron asked him, nudging Harry in the side with his elbow. Harry nearly glared at him for still being hungry, and passed the plate without a word.

"You're quiet this morning, Harry," Mrs. Weasley noted. "Are you feeling quite all right?"

"I'm fine. Just thinking about when we'll get our Hogwarts letters, so we can go to Diagon Alley and get our supplies," he lied, so effortlessly that he felt a stab of guilt for it.

"It's odd you'd mention that, dear. Professor McGonagall is coming this afternoon to help watch the house, and I believe she'll be bringing your letters with her. As for shopping in Diagon Alley, I'm afraid it's best we send someone else to shop for you."

Hermione perked up at the mention of their letters, and Harry knew it was because she was anxious to see if she was chosen as Head Girl.

"I hope you get it, Hermione," Harry told her, winking at her over his spoon as he brought it to his mouth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione answered, prissily. 

If there was one thing Hermione hated, Harry thought, it was having her secret thoughts guessed by himself or by Ron. She'd always been that way. Harry found something about that very comforting. If they could somehow all make it through the fight against Voldemort together, he could imagine her acting the same way with them as they grew older together.

"Yeah, Harry. What are you talking about?" Ron asked, making Harry roll his eyes at how thick Ron could be sometimes.

"Hermione's sure to make Head Girl, and she'll find out as soon as McGonagall gets here with those letters," Ginny answered before Harry had a chance to.

"Ah, dear. I do hope they're smart enough to see what a brilliant Head Girl you would make, Hermione." Mrs. Weasley smiled at Hermione, and Hermione blushed furiously in response before mumbling her thanks.

"I think so too, Mum," Ginny said, and she patted Hermione on the shoulder. "Hermione's quite a lovely girl, don't you think?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed a bit surprised at Ginny's direct question, but it didn't take long before she answered. "Of course, Ginny. Well, Hermione, you know how we all feel about you. You and Harry are welcome at the Burrow any time, as long as it's safe for you to be there."

Ginny smiled triumphantly at Hermione, and Harry wondered what it was, exactly, that he'd missed. Harry knew Ron intended to keep his relationship with Hermione a secret from his mother. Perhaps this was Ginny's way of encouraging the two of them to come clean.

A loud ' _crack_ ' from the entry hall announced the arrival of Professor McGonagall, putting a relieved look on Hermione's face as the attention in the room shifted from her to their new guest.

"Wait, everyone. I'd like to have a word with Professor McGonagall privately." Hermione gave him an inquisitive look, apparently not appreciating the need for her to wait a few extra moments before she saw her letter. "It won't take long, but I have to speak to her, now."

"Well, of course, dear. Just let us know when you're finished." Mrs. Weasley looked around the table, swishing her wand to pick up the empty plates and levitate them to the sink.

Harry gave Hermione an apologetic look before leaving the kitchen, and then hurried to the entryway to catch McGonagall before she got too settled in.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I have your letter here, and there are a few things I'd like to go over with you regarding your schedule, assuming you still intend to become an Auror after you complete your studies at Hogwarts this year."

"I need to speak to you first, Professor. Have you made plans for the upcoming Quidditch season?"

"Potter, I would like Gryffindor to win the cup as much as you would, but is this really more important to you than talking about becoming an Auror?"

"I'm not asking you for myself. I'm asking you for Ron."

"Well, as I am planning to appoint you the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, I assure you that his future on the team as our Keeper is well in hand, if you intend to keep him on, of course. You have a second letter in your envelope with the details."

"Is it too late to change your mind?"

McGonagall looked at him with an expression of disbelief. "You don't _want_ to be the Captain?"

"I wouldn't mind, but I think Ron would be brilliant. He's been working on Quidditch strategies since he was four or five years old. I've seen some of his recent work. We'd be unbeatable! Besides, how can I direct the team while I'm looking for the Snitch?"

His professor looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, it's true. Most successful Captains are Keepers or Chasers. It's just...well, Potter, I thought you'd be disappointed otherwise, and the team has so much raw talent at the moment that it would be difficult for anyone to do a poor job of it."

"Just trust me, then. Ron is the perfect person for it. No one takes Quidditch more seriously than he does. I'd only need to show you the letters he sent me over the first part of the summer to show you that."

"I'm willing to take your word for it, but this does put me in a bit of a bind. You see, Ron has also been made Head Boy."

Harry smiled, thinking back to their first year and remembering what Ron saw when he looked into the Mirror of Erised. "So, he'll be both then." Harry shrugged, showing McGonagall he didn't mind if she gave the team to Ron.

"The Head Boy and Head Girl this year will have many extra duties. With the aborted attack on Beauxbatons last year and the increase in recent Death Eater activity, Dumbledore and the Heads of House had to be very careful who they chose as Prefects and Head Students this year. I can't see how one student could take on both responsibilities," McGonagall frowned. "Which do you think he would choose?"

Harry barely stopped himself from saying, " _Are you kidding?_ " Instead, he decided to look thoughtful for a moment before answering. "I think he'd take the Quidditch team."

"Very well then, Potter. Congratulations."

"I promise you, Ron will be the best—erm, why are you congratulating me?"

"Because you've just made yourself Head Boy."

"Professor—I can't! I wasn't even a Prefect!"

"It's happened before. It's not common, of course, but there is precedent. Your father, for one. Remus Lupin was the Prefect, but your father was made Head Boy in their seventh year. Mr. Weasley will remain a Prefect, as Remus Lupin did. You could use the help of another person who knows the true danger we are up against."

"You can't be serious. I haven't got a clue how to be Head Boy."

"I daresay you can just follow Miss Granger's lead, and you will do just fine."

"So, Hermione's Head Girl." At least Harry had someone he could trust to lean on, if he would be stuck with the Head Boy duties.

"We will need you, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny to take the lion's share of the patrols this year, delegating as little as necessary. We'll go over it once we're closer to the start of term. If that's all, Potter, could you excuse me for a moment while I make some adjustments to these letters?"

Harry had been shooed away by Professor McGonagall enough to know when he had been dismissed, so he returned to the kitchen without arguing against being made Head Boy for a second time. It was a losing argument. Harry just hoped Ron would understand.

"Does she have our letters?" Hermione asked, trying to appear calm, but doing a poor job of hiding her anticipation.

"I think so," Harry hedged, looking at Ron and wondering if he'd given McGonagall the correct advice. Then he noticed Ron was wearing the animated Chudley Cannons shirt Hermione gave him for his birthday, and smiled as the Cannon's Chasers waved at him from Ron's chest. It had to be the right decision.

"Molly, you're free to go for a few hours," McGonagall said, bustling into the kitchen. "I know you wanted to go back to the Burrow for a bit. This would be an excellent opportunity. I have arranged for Hestia Jones to accompany you, if you wish. You can Floo a message to her and she'll meet you there."

"Oh, I would appreciate that. There are some things I need to check on, and a few things I need to pick up there."

"I shall stay here for as long as you need me to," McGonagall answered.

"Shouldn't need more than a few hours, I expect. I'll be back soon." Mrs. Weasley untied the horrible pink, flowered apron from around her waist, folded it, and placed it carefully on the countertop. She left, muttering a list of items to retrieve from the Burrow to herself as she went.

"Professor, do you have our letters?" Hermione asked, unable to hold herself back any longer.

"I do, but I have a few things to explain before you open them," McGongall began, and Harry saw the disappointed look flit over Hermione's face before she covered it. Hermione would have to wait a few minutes more, and Harry thought it looked as though the delay might drive her absolutely mad. "First of all, everyone in this room is, at least, a Prefect next year. This title will carry with it a great responsibility. At all costs, we must protect Hogwarts. I'm sure you all realize that the events in France last year show that Voldemort has been looking for a weakness in the defensive wards protecting the world's schools of witchcraft and wizardry."

Ginny gave Harry a curious look, and he wondered if she was more surprised to hear that she, herself, was made a Prefect, or that Harry appeared to be as well.

McGonagall waited for each of them to nod their understanding of what she'd told them so far before she continued. "Mr. Weasley, although you were the natural choice for Head Boy, I have chosen an altogether different job for you. It is important in its own way, but I will need your word that no part of this alternate role will interfere with your dedication to protecting the school. I have decided to make you Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

Ron's frown at hearing that he would not be Head Boy disappeared as McGonagall finished her thought, but it returned as Ron looked quickly to Harry. "Professor, are you sure it shouldn't be Harry?"

"I have already spoken to him about this. Seekers do not make effective Captains. Control of the team is not decided merely on seniority, but on many other factors as well. Taking each of those other factors into account, you are the best choice."

Harry was extremely glad that McGonagall had not mentioned their earlier conversation, or her original intentions to give Harry the job until he'd made a case for Ron.

"It's all right, Ron," Harry began, but Ron didn't look entirely convinced. "Really, it's fine. After seeing what you've been working on, I think it's our best shot at the cup."

Hermione piped in with another question, apparently trying to steer the conversation back to Prefects and Head Students. "Professor, you said that each of us in this room would at least be a Prefect, but—"

"And I was correct when I said that. I will save you the suspense and bring myself directly to the point. As we have many other dangers to deal with in the upcoming year, Mr. Weasley, you will remain a Prefect. Miss Weasley, you also be a Gryffindor Prefect. Congratulations to the two of you," McGonagall told them, handing each of them their letter, "I do hope you will find these assignments challenging and stimulating."

Ron opened his letter and shook out the Captain's patch for his Quidditch robes, and Harry saw the expression of awe on Ron's face. If he'd ever doubted which position Ron would have chosen for himself, he had his answer now.

"Miss Granger, you will be Head Girl."

Hermione nodded quietly, but Harry found that if he looked closely, you could just barely make out that she was bouncing a bit in her chair.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, reaching out for her own letter.

"The responsibilities you will take on will be many, especially considering your very ambitious course schedule. You must take this job very seriously. I know you are more than up to the task, and I put my full confidence in your abilities."

That was the closest thing to outright praise Harry thought he'd ever heard Professor McGonagall give anyone, and Hermione looked quietly delighted.

"Your first assignment will be to familiarize the Head Boy with his duties, as he was not a Prefect in either his fifth year or his sixth."

Realization seemed to dawn on Ron, as he finally tore his eyes away from his patch. "It's you, Harry!"

"I was getting to that," McGonagall told Ron, frowning at him a bit. "If you open this letter, Harry, I believe you will find that to be true."

Harry braced himself as he waited for Ron's reaction, still wondering if Ron would feel put out. His fears were alleviated as Ron clapped him on the back a few times.

"Well done! The four of us will protect the school, you can draw up the patrol schedules with Hermione, and we'll be undefeated next season. Absolutely brilliant."

"Now that you all have your letters, I believe you would all benefit from some time to go over them. You should probably make a separate list of everything you'll need from Diagon Alley, as we will be sending someone to fetch those things on your behalf."

The four of them gathered their letters together and left the kitchen, setting up in the sitting room. Hermione left them to retrieve some parchment and a few quills from her room, and Harry took that time to look more closely at his course schedule. Once he saw it, he wished he hadn't looked at it at all. Ron apparently had similar thoughts about his own schedule, as he groaned loudly after glancing at his letter.

"Start off the week with Double Potions!" Ron exclaimed. "How can you bloody get out of bed on Monday knowing _that's_ ahead of you?"

"I suppose you have Double Charms just after that?" Harry asked him, hoping he'd at least have Ron in each of his classes to help make things more bearable.

"At least Tuesday's not so bad," Ron continued. "Care of Magical Creatures in the morning, then Double Transfiguration after. McGonagall's tough, but at least she's fair."

Hermione returned with the extra parchment and quills, and they each began making their own list of things they'd need from Diagon Alley. Harry included several extra things on his list, anxious to replace some of Dudley's hand-me-downs with clothes that would fit him better. He frowned, realizing someone would have to go to a Muggle shop to get most of it, but he decided he'd better write it down while he was thinking about it.

"Ah, I'm in most of your classes, save Divination, of course," Hermione told Ron, looking over his shoulder at his letter.

Ron held out his hand for Hermione's letter, and she passed it to him with a bit of hesitation.

"Blimey, Hermione! Are you using the Time-Turner again this year?" Ron exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in Hermione's schedule.

"Of course not," she answered. "Don't be daft. None of those courses overlap."

"When will you have time for anything else?" Ron asked, and Harry could hear the real question behind it. Ron was already seeing his time with Hermione during the upcoming year dwindling away.

"Remember, other than my Head Girl duties, I don't have hours of Quidditch practice every week. I have to have something to keep me occupied while the three of you are flying, don't I?"

Harry was still stuck on his Monday course schedule. "How am I ever going to get a NEWT in Potions?" Harry muttered under his breath. His opportunity to become an Auror seemed to be held directly in Snape's hands, which did not give him a good feeling. At least the NEWT exams would be given by someone outside of Hogwarts, which gave Harry a fighting chance.

"How are you going to get a NEWT in Potions? How am _I_ going to get a NEWT in Potions?" Ron wailed. "I'm not even sure I can make it through the year without hexing Malfoy so completely that I'll get myself expelled."

The conversation died down after they all had a bit of a laugh at the thought of Ron finally losing his head completely toward Malfoy and getting himself thrown out of school. While it was possible Ron could let his Weasley temper run wild and get himself expelled, he would probably be too busy with the Quidditch team and Hermione to even have the time to do it.

Hermione moved closer to Ron, nattering at him about their schedules and what they should add to their shopping lists. Ron seemed to be frowning at the length of his own list, and Harry knew he was wondering how his parents would ever find the money to pay for it all. Harry wished there was some way he could help them, but he knew Ron would refuse to take any monetary help from him. Harry let his gaze wander to Ginny, and saw she, too, was frowning at her letter. Harry walked to her and kneeled on the floor near her chair. 

"Can I see your letter? The three of us took most of your classes last year. Hermione will probably want to keep her books, but I'm sure you could take some of mine or Ron's," Harry told her, and she looked at her with a torn expression on her face.

"Are you sure? You might need them to study for your NEWTs."

"Then I'll know who to borrow them from. Hey, you don't want to weigh down my trunk, do you? I can hardly levitate it as it is." He smiled at her, and she finally allowed her face to relax into a smile in return.

He pretended to look at her letter, squinting as if he was trying to read it upside-down, but he was really just staring at her hands. It just didn't seem possible that, the day before, those hands had been on his back as he kissed her. He looked over Ginny's shoulder at the sofa, where Ron and Hermione were currently sitting, and he wished everything around them would disappear so he could kiss her again.

"Harry," Ginny began in a whisper, her voice hesitant. "About yesterday..."

Harry's heart jumped into his throat, and he suddenly found it difficult to think. "I know," was all he could manage to say. "I just...I think..." he began, and then found he couldn't finish. Should he just admit to the way he felt about her and what she had come to mean to him, or should he wait to see what she said? He would be spending a lot of time with Ginny. If she didn't return his feelings, it would make the next year rather uncomfortable for both of them.

Ginny's hand raised, shaking a bit, and it finally rested on the frame of his glasses. Two of her fingers brushed the side of his face, and he struggled not to show the effect she was having on him.

"Am I ever going to get to take these off you again?" she asked, looking directly into his eyes and shocking him with her directness. Her hand dropped away, falling back to the arm of the chair.

"Do you want to?" he asked, and realized immediately how unfair it was to expect her to take all the risks. "Because I want you to," he added, and he saw in her eyes the moment she realized what he meant.

"All right, then. Perhaps we should wait until someone other than McGonagall is here. I don't fancy getting caught by her," she told him, with a twinkle in her eye.

"In the meantime, could you do me a favor?" He tried to sound confident, but he feared his uncertainty was peeking through.

"Of course," she told him, looking a bit confused.

"Would you mind not seeing anyone else this year?"

Ginny looked down to her lap for a moment before she looked back to him, her eyes a bit wider with comprehension. "Why would I turn down a perfectly good date, Harry?" she asked, clearly teasing him.

"Because you already have one. To anything, anywhere." He just barely resisted the urge to lean forward and kiss her again, but he wasn't sure how Ron would react.

"All right, Harry," she told him, grasping his hand quickly before letting it go again. She also glanced quickly at her brother, and he realized they shared the same concerns. He would have to talk to Ron about this. He didn't want Ginny to have to do it, but it didn't mean he was looking forward to it.

"Finish your list," Harry told her, "and then we can go look through my things, up in my room, and see what you can take from me."

"All right," she told him, stealing a look around. "I'll write quickly."


	14. The Hogwarts Express

The remaining weeks of the summer passed quickly. Ginny woke up on the morning they were to go to King's Cross to catch the Hogwarts Express, and she could hardly believe the day had come so soon. The room was quiet, and Ginny rolled over to see that Hermione was still sleeping.

It had been entertaining to watch Ron and Hermione struggling to hide their ever more obvious affections for each other from their guards, most especially, from Ron and Ginny's mother. Less entertaining, really, once Ginny and Harry found themselves in the same situation, with the added twist of having to hide it from Ron and Hermione as well.

Ginny had neither mentioned it to Harry, nor Harry to her, but she knew they were both dreading the moment Ron discovered his best mate had taken to snogging his sister. Ginny didn't want to put Hermione in the position of having to keep a secret from Ron, so they were stuck keeping the full truth from Hermione as well. Hermione had asked some veiled questions, and Ginny had deflected them as best she could without resorting to an outright lie.

It was difficult, but Ginny couldn't deny there was a certain excitement about keeping things under wraps. Harry would catch her alone for a moment and he would pull her into a kiss, only to let her go at the last possible second before they would be discovered. 

In the beginning, every time Harry kissed her, he began tentatively. His grasp would fall lightly on her shoulders and he would hesitate for a moment before he allowed himself to kiss her, as if he was giving her a chance to push him away.

Recently, she could feel him becoming more confident. Just last week, he had found her alone in the upstairs library, and he'd backed her up against a bookcase as they kissed. Their bodies had intimately pressed together, and his hands had roamed a bit more than he'd ever allowed them to before.

Ginny wondered if they were moving too fast, remembering all the things her mother had told her about boys as she was growing up. None of those things seemed to apply to Harry, though. Harry did seem to respect her and care for her, and Ginny wondered if the rules were at all different when you found a boy who seemed to truly fancy you.

"Ginny? What time is it? Oh, no! We hardly have any time at all!" Hermione wailed, throwing back the bedcovers and pulling herself to her feet.

"Hermione, calm down. You packed nearly everything last night. It won't take you a tick to get yourself situated. Just change your clothes, pack those books you had out last night along with what you're wearing now into your trunk, and you'll be ready for breakfast."

"Oh, I suppose so. I do hate to be rushed, though."

* * *

"Honestly, Ron. You do insist on making us late," Hermione said, huffing loudly as she dragged her trunk on a trolley with one arm and held a wriggling Crookshanks with the other. "We only have five minutes to get to Platform 9 ¾."

"We'll make it, Hermione. We always do," Ron said, sounding a bit put out to have the blame solely placed on his shoulders.

"Oh, really? I seem to remember two of you taking a flying car to school one year because you missed the train," Ginny said, struggling to stay even with Harry as they ran through King's Cross, trying not to attract too much attention.

"That wasn't our fault and you know it, Ginny," Ron said, sounding more upset with the girls by the minute.

"Imagine, the Head Boy and Head Girl late to their own organizational meeting," Hermione whispered, just before she began to run toward the pillar that led to the Hogwarts Express.

Ron turned to Harry and rolled his eyes before following her. Harry and Ginny both delayed for a moment, neither of them wanting to cross to the other side and find themselves in the middle of the inevitable row.

"Well, they'll have fun making up later, won't they?" Ginny said, and Harry laughed in return.

"They'll never change," Harry sighed.

"Go on, you two. What are you waiting for?" Ginny's mother yelled, and Ginny did her best Ron 'rolling his eyes' impression for Harry as they began to run toward the pillar.

Platform 9 ¾ emerged around them, and the train looked nearly ready to pull away from the station. For the first time, Ginny wasn't worried about where she would sit. There was no internal debate between sitting with the students in her year or trying to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry had already made it clear that they would be together for the trip after the prefects meeting. He'd whispered it in her ear just before he broke away from her when he'd kissed her against the bookcase in the library at Grimmauld Place.

"Come on," Hermione urged them. "There's so much to cover, and I don't want that meeting to take up the entire trip."

Harry paused for a moment before taking his first step onto the stairs leading onto the train, and Ginny nearly ran into the back of him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked.

He turned to her, and he had an odd look in his eyes. "It's the last time. The next time I get on this train, I'll be through with school."

Ginny was surprised to hear the way Harry phrased that, as he didn't usually talk about the future in such optimistic terms. In all the time Ginny had truly known him, he always seemed to have a fatalistic aura around him, as though he assumed he'd never see the end of term each year. It wasn't altogether paranoid, really, when you considered what he'd gone through in the past six years. To hear him talk about the end of his seventh year with certainty gave Ginny such hope that she couldn't suppress the desire to throw her arms around him.

Harry looked a bit surprised, but he returned her embrace, quickly holding her to him before they both pulled away from each other to board the train.

"This way," Hermione hissed, and Ginny saw that her friend had Ron by the hand and was dragging him toward the compartment of the train where the prefects meeting would be held. Ginny saw several students milling around in the corridor nearby, most of them prefects from the previous year. The train lurched as it started down the tracks, just as Ginny noticed several Slytherins there. She was, she had to admit, pleased to see that none of them were Pansy Parkinson or Draco Malfoy. Amelaie Greengrass was talking to Blaise Zabini near the door to the compartment. Two Slytherins from her own year, Demetrius Morgan and Lavinia Whiting, were standing a bit further down the corridor, talking with two other Slytherins Ginny didn't know by name.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, pulling on the sleeve of his shirt, "I don't see Draco or Pansy."

"Oh! Do you think—"

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? Professor McGonagall said Dumbledore only chose students he could trust, and I can't see how he could have left things the way they were, considering Draco's father is a known Death Eater. As Pansy's always hanging on Draco's arm, you can't really take a chance on her either."

"Well, that's one less thing to worry about, then. I had no idea when Hermione and I would schedule Draco for patrol. I don't trust that git out after hours, even if we're out there too."

"Hello! Prefects! Your attention please? We'll have a short meeting now, just to touch base and talk about some expectations for the coming year." Hermione opened the door to the prefects compartment, which was three times the size of any of the other passenger compartments on the train. The prefects shuffled by in groups of two or three, all of them catching their friends up on the events of their summer.

"They're staring at me, aren't they, Ginny?" Harry asked her, and Ginny was about to tell him he was being daft when she noticed he was right.

"Well, not really," Ginny told him, deciding to try to downplay the stares he was getting. "It's just because you weren't a prefect last year. Once they get used to it, no one will think it's odd."

"I suppose," Harry whispered to her, bending a little closer to her than necessary and quickly brushing his lips against her ear. Ginny's gaze flew to Ron, who seemed too engrossed in a conversation with Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw to notice what Harry was doing. Ginny assumed it had to be about Quidditch, because Hermione was frowning a bit in Ron's direction.

"Harry, do you have anything you want to say before we begin?" Hermione asked, and Ginny saw the shocked expression on his face as every person in the room turned to stare at him.

"Erm," Harry began, and Ginny wanted to smack Padma Patil when she heard the girl snigger during the silence while Harry was casting for something to say. "I'd just like to thank all of you for coming. We have quite a year ahead, and I believe Hermione has some specifics for you about that." Harry cleared his throat and the prefects turned from him back to Hermione, taking him back out of the spotlight.

* * *

"So, that's what we have for you this upcoming year," Hermione said, folding her hands over a scroll of parchment sitting on her lap. "Are there any questions?"

Ginny knew Professor McGonagall had pulled Hermione aside back at Grimmauld Place the last time she was there and told her what she could and could not divulge to the prefects. It didn't surprise Ginny how much Hermione had to leave out, although she was allowed to reference the aborted attack on Beauxbatons. Hermione passed around a pledge sheet for everyone to sign, and warned them all that anyone violating the pledge would find it was immediately obvious that they had done so.

"When will we get our schedules?" Demetrius Morgan asked, with that air of barely restrained arrogance Ginny had come to associate with every Slytherin she knew, even those who weren't complete gits.

"Harry and I will be covering most of the first week of term, along with a few of you whom I've already spoken to. During that first week, Harry and I will be collecting your personal preferences and looking at your course schedules. From that, we will create the patrol schedule. As always, you are welcome to switch shifts with each other. Harry and I will only step in if it appears one pair of prefects is shirking their responsibilities habitually, or if one of you needs assistance finding someone to fill in for you."

"Thanks," Demetrius said. "That answers my question."

"Well, if there's nothing else, I think we'd all like to relax and enjoy the rest of the trip," Hermione said, effectively dismissing everyone from the compartment.

"I was thinking of staying here with you, Ron, and Hermione, but Ron told me he wanted some time to talk to Hermione alone after the meeting," Harry whispered to Ginny. "Do you think we can find another compartment somewhere else?"

"Well, if we want to, we should get moving now."

"Do you think Hermione and Ron are all right? They did bicker a bit this morning, didn't they?" Harry asked as they started down the corridor toward the back of the train.

"I think they're fine. Hermione told me that—" Ginny stopped herself, realizing she was about to betray a confidence.

"Hermione told you what?"

"I can't tell you. That's from a private conversation. I'm sorry, Harry."

"No, I understand," Harry told her, albeit a bit reluctantly. "They do seem to be doing quite well in general, don't they? I know Ron was a bit put out this morning because he took the sole blame for us being late to King's Cross, but other than that—"

"It's not always easy," Ginny said, "even when it seems on the surface that both people are happy and in love."

"Ginny, they are all right, aren't they? You can tell me that much, without telling me about whatever Hermione said specifically."

"They're fine. The way they love each other, they'll work anything out. Hermione just has some concerns, but from what she's told me, Ron's been great about it." Ginny smiled wryly at Harry, as they finally found an unoccupied compartment near the end of the train. "I didn't know my brother had it in him, to be honest."

They sat down across from each other, and the door to the compartment slid shut.

"Well, you see, that's the way it is when you like a girl, I think. Ron cares about her. He'd never let anything happen to her. He'd never intentionally hurt her. If it does happen, it's just because we're all prats where girls are concerned."

Ginny melted a little inside as Harry spoke. His eyes had fallen downward to inspect his shoes, and she got the feeling he was talking more about himself than he was about Ron.

"On a different subject Harry, I think there's only one way _you'd_ make a better boyfriend."

Harry's eyes widened and Ginny allowed herself a brief moment to enjoy his shock before she put him out of his misery.

"Listen, Ginny. If I've done something, if there's something I haven't done, if I said something wrong or—"

"I shouldn't have said it that way, Harry. It would be a lot easier to enjoy being your girlfriend if we could, well, _tell_ anyone." 

They'd danced around the subject for two weeks now, and it really seemed that the time to break the news to Ron had come.

"I know. He's going to find out eventually," Harry said, looking as though he wished it wasn't true.

Ginny sighed. "He's my brother. I'll tell him. I'd rather you weren't there. I don't want him to kill you before I get a chance to calm him down."

Harry looked shocked at the idea of his best mate that angry at him, but it didn't seem as though he found it unlikely.

"We should both be there. But if we're smart, we'll make sure Hermione's there too."

"Voice of reason," Ginny said, nodding her agreement.

Harry's eyes strayed to the window in the door of their compartment.

"I wish I could kiss you right now," he said, looking at her with a hungry look in his eyes.

"I wish you could too," Ginny whispered, feeling her heart begin to pound inside her chest.

Harry got up and moved to Ginny's side, brushing his hand against her leg as he sat down. Ginny took in a sharp breath, and gave him a tortured look.

"We can't take any chances, though. If anyone sees anything, it'll be all over the train. I just don't want Ron to hear about it second hand."

"I suppose if we wanted to be free now, we should have spoken to Ron back at Grimmauld Place," Ginny said, frustrated at the both of them for putting it off.

"It just never seemed like the right time."

"I felt the same way, but I think we're just putting off the inevitable. Either he'll be all right with things, or he'll hate us both. We can't change that."

"It's killing me to be so secretive," Harry said, and Ginny felt a shiver down her spine at the way he was looking at her.

"What do you wish we could be doing now?" Ginny whispered into his ear, surprised to hear herself ask the question. It seemed so bold, a bit bolder than she truly felt.

Harry hesitated, and then pushed Ginny's hair aside to whisper back into her ear. "I think I'd take your hand first. I know it sounds daft, but I really like the way your hand feels in mine. Then I'd kiss you. Did you know I leave my eyes open until the last second before our lips touch? I love to watch you in those last couple of seconds, after you've closed your eyes."

Ginny was choking up, astounded at how much Harry was sharing with her. "Harry—"

"Does this make me sound like a prat? It feels so strange to tell you those things."

"No, Harry," she answered quickly, not moving her head away from his ear at all. They might look a little odd to anyone passing by, but it was much easier to have this conversation if she didn't have to look into his eyes. One look from him at this point would steal away any rational thought she was capable of. "I want to hear more."

He was silent for a moment and she wondered if he could gather the courage to say anything else.

"Well, I think I might hold your chin in my hands at first. It seems so innocent, but Merlin, you feel good, Ginny. It's like I'm drinking you in."

"I like that too, Harry. Anywhere you touch me makes me feel like the most—" Ginny paused for a moment, as she was about to say 'loved' and they had not said that to each other yet. "—treasured thing in the world." Her heart was pounding even harder now, as saying 'treasured' was not far off from what she'd wanted to say.

"Ginny," he began, and she could hear that familiar sound of hesitance in his voice, "where do you like me to put my hands? It's not that you don't feel absolutely brilliant to me, but I'm sure there must be places you like and other things you might—" he stopped himself, clearing his throat just a bit, "well, you might not want me to do."

This was the question she'd been asking herself for weeks. Every time she and Harry got a longer than usual amount of time alone together, things tended to progress rather quickly toward the point when she heard her mother's voice in her head, urging Ginny to slow things down. It was the last thing she wanted to do, and she was being worn thin by the war in her own mind. Every time she fought another internal battle, the line she'd drawn for herself became fuzzier and fuzzier.

"Do you remember last week? In the library? When you let your hands slip down from my shoulders to my waist, you brushed past everything between on the way. Didn't you notice the way I reacted?"

"I didn't know if you were shocked or—"

"I wasn't." Ginny could feel her cheeks heating up, but she remembered the advice she'd given Hermione. _If you can't talk to him about it, do you think you have any business doing anything?_

"You're driving me mad," he whispered, and she could hear the pain in his voice. She wanted to feel his lips, his hands, his body against hers as much as it sounded that he did.

"Bloody hell, Harry, I—"

They were interrupted by the sound of the doors to their compartment opening, and Harry pulled away from her so abruptly she wanted to cry out.

"Oi, you two. What's going on? I don't have anything to worry about, now do I?" Ron grinned at them, and Ginny knew Ron was joking. 

Harry apparently didn't, because he immediately began to stammer incoherently in response.

"Ron, you see, it's not that we—I mean—well, it's just that I didn't know quite how you'd—" Harry stopped himself, finally realizing that Ron had been joking.

"Harry, mate, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were about to tell me something," Ron said, and Ginny recognized the shocked flush appearing on his face. Something about it angered her, and she couldn't hold her silence any longer.

She spared a moment to give Harry a look designed to say, ' _well, so much for having Hermione here for this,_ ' and then stood up to face her brother.

"Listen, Ronald, you great prat, I like Harry, and Harry likes me. There's nothing anyone can do to change that. There it is," she said plainly, boldly holding his stare to tell him she didn't intend to be argued with.

"How long?" Ron asked them, looking at each of them in turn.

Ginny was about to answer, ' _Nearly a month,_ ' when Harry spoke first. "How long what?"

"How long did you leave my sister hanging, mate? She's been stuck on you for ages."

"How long did he what?" Ginny asked, her mouth dropping open in shock.

"Oh, come on, Ginny. You never really got over him, did you? I don't know when Harry finally realized it, but I've thought you'd be good for him all along. Thought you'd kill me if I told him that, though. Bloody hard keeping my mouth shut, especially with Hermione urging me on all the time."

Ginny had an insane impulse to punch Ron directly in the center of his smug face when Harry began to laugh so hard it shook the bench where they sat. She tried to stay mad, but the utter absurdity of it all finally hit her. They'd tried so hard to hide things from Ron and Hermione, and it would never have bothered Ron in the slightest to know about them. She joined Harry, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her cheeks.

"What's going on in here?" Ginny heard in the unmistakable brogue of Seamus Finnigan while doubled over with hysterical laughter.

"Oh, nothing. Harry's finally realized my sister's absolutely spare in love with him, and he decided to take her up on it. About bloody time, too."

"Ron!" Ginny protested, her laughter finally dying away as she heard herself described in such unfortunate terms.

"Well, finally Potter's seen the light. Can you imagine having one of the prettiest girls in Gryffindor mooning after you and not doing anything about it for years?" Seamus said. "Pity my friend Dean was always a goner, eh? Never had a chance, really."

"I believe that's enough," Ginny said, her anger beginning to light anew as Seamus and Ron teamed up against her.

"All right, all right. Don't get out your wand," Ron said, obviously trying to placate her. "I only came here to see where you two had gotten to. Hermione wondered where you'd gone. She thought we'd all sit together in the Head Boy and Head Girl's compartment and enjoy the rest of the trip." Ron arched his eyebrows at Harry. "Although, mate, if you'd rather stay here on your own, I'll go back and tell Hermione you had other plans."

Although staying alone with Harry would have sounded just fine to Ginny a few moments ago, she somehow felt her reputation was at stake if she did.

"No, Ronald, Hermione's plan sounds fine," Ginny said, trying to preserve as much of her dignity as possible. Seamus snorted back more laughter as he left the doorway of the compartment, and Ron looked as though he was in quite a bit of pain, trying not to laugh again himself. Ginny stole a look at Harry, who had a different expression of pain on his face. Her heart gave a little lurch to realize how much it appeared he wanted to be alone with her right now, but he quickly covered it.

"All right," he said, standing up and pushing Ron back into the corridor. "I'll find the food trolley and get us some things, and I'll be right behind you."

Harry left them in the corridor, and Ron grinned at Ginny.

"Oh, come on, Gin. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh, you didn't _mean_ anything by making me sound like a pathetic prat, mooning after the same boy for years?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We were just joking. You dated Michael and then Dean, didn't you? Of course no one thinks you've been pining just for Harry all this time."

Ginny regarded him with great suspicion, and her humor came back as she saw her brother, tall enough to tower over her, shrink under her gaze.

"Oh, fine. Let's forget it."

"C'mon, Ginny. Hermione will go absolutely mad when she hears."


	15. The Head Boy's Quarters

Harry took Ginny's hand to help her out of the carriage once they reached the castle and just kept hold of it after she was safely out. Ginny smiled at him nervously and they took their first steps as a couple, out in the open.

Three girls from Ginny's year waved at her from across the courtyard, then appeared to notice whose hand she was holding. They burst into fits of hysterical giggles, each grabbing another by the arm and scurrying away.

"That's going to happen a lot now, isn't it?" Harry asked her, and Ginny shrugged.

"Only for a bit, I think. We'll be old hat before you know it."

"I don't know, it is the most astounding news since—" Ron began, but his sister cut him off.

"Hermione Granger deigned to notice you were painfully in love with her," Ginny said, and Harry wondered if she was just trying to get a bit of her own back after Ron's behavior on the train.

"I s'pose so, don't you think, Hermione?" Ron asked, and Ginny looked annoyed that Ron seemed unaffected.

"It's all right," Harry whispered to her, planting a kiss on her cheek before he pulled away. "Wait until our first practice. He's a pretty good Keeper, but you're a better Chaser. When you score on him for the twentieth time, you'll feel better."

Ginny laughed and squeezed Harry's hand.

Ron and Hermione fell in step with Seamus and Dean, but Harry and Ginny hung back a bit and walked with Neville Longbottom to the Great Hall, hearing about his summer with his Gran. Ginny interjected an encouraging word here and there, so Harry allowed himself to concentrate more on how her hand felt in his than Neville's story. 

When they reached the Gryffindor table, Ginny pulled at Harry's hand and urged them all to take seats near the door.

"You remember what it was like, watching the Sorting Ceremony in our first few years. Let's let the younger students have a better view."

Ron, Hermione, Seamus and Dean entered, Ron and Hermione taking the seats across from Harry and Ginny, while Seamus and Dean settled in next to Neville. Harry noticed how Dean glanced at Ginny and Harry's joined hands as he passed, and he wondered if things would be strained between Dean and himself for a bit.

"All right there, Dean?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"All right, Harry. How was your summer?" Dean asked, leaning forward to look at Harry around Seamus and Neville.

"Good. Yours?"

"Good. Saw West Ham play a few times. Pretty cool, really."

"Hard to believe it's our last year already," Harry said, realizing he might be pushing the small talk a bit.

"Yeah," Dean said, and there was an awkward silence for a moment until Seamus stepped in and asked Dean about West Ham's chances this season. Harry breathed an internal sigh of relief and found himself free to drop out of the conversation.

Harry noticed several professors entering the Great Hall and beginning to make their way to the head table. Professor McGonagall seemed to be scanning the Gryffindor table for something, and when she made eye contact with Harry, she began striding purposefully toward him. He reflexively searched his memory for anything he could have done to annoy her or get himself into trouble before realizing it probably had something to do with him being Head Boy.

"Potter, Granger. Could I see you in private for a moment?" Professor McGonagall asked in her usual businesslike tone, and Harry noticed that Hermione had sprung to her feet before Harry had even had the chance to put down his fork.

Harry caught up to them and followed their Head of House as she led them back into the entryway, stopping once they were free to talk without being overheard.

"I suppose the two of you already know that the Head Boy and Head Girl have their own private rooms. I assume, however, that neither of you know how they are accessed."

Harry looked at Hermione and by the look on her face, he guessed that Professor McGonagall was right. That information must not be in _Hogwarts: A History_ , Harry thought, smiling to himself a little.

"You will still have a bed in your respective seventh year dormitories. To get to your room, you merely have to pull the bed hangings closed around yourself. When you have done so, you will find yourself in a corridor outside the door to your room. They each have a password, a different one for each of you. I suggest you change them the first time you enter your rooms to something you will remember. I have written your opening passwords on these scraps of parchment. I suggest you use a Vanishing spell on it as soon as you are sure you will remember it."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, and Harry echoed her.

"It is up to you to make sure all prefects lead their houses safely back to their dormitories. Furthermore, you will assist with the younger Gryffindors, and make sure each member of your own house is given the password for the portrait of the Fat Lady. It is 'honking daffodil,' to begin with. It will be your responsibility to change this password on a regular basis, as well. That's all you need to know for now. You needn't worry about patrol tonight. The professors will make rounds tonight, to give you a chance to get settled in. Now, as that's all, we should get into the Great Hall and allow the Headmaster to begin the ceremony."

Harry and Hermione made their way back to their seats at the Gryffindor table, and Professor McGonagall walked regally to her seat at Dumbledore's right. Hestia Jones sat at McGonagall's other side, and Harry found himself wondering what sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher she would make. She seemed quiet, but nice, each of the times Harry could recall seeing her.

One by one, each of the students Hagrid had ushered in earlier were called to the front of the hall to be sorted into their houses. Harry and his friends cheered and hooted loudly whenever a student was placed in Gryffindor.

"We were never that small," Ron told Harry, as an extremely tiny girl made her way to the front of their table after being announced as a Gryffindor.

"I'll show you some pictures from first year," Hermione told him, clapping loudly for their new housemate. "You weren't always this height, you know."

* * *

Hermione and Harry stood from the table before anyone else had finished, as Hermione had decided they would walk along it to whisper the password to their fellow Gryffindors before they were excused from the Great Hall.

Harry tried to greet everyone as he moved past, telling each of them the password and letting them know that the two fifth year Gryffindor prefects, Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper, would be leading them back to their common room at the conclusion of the feast. To each of the first year students, he pointed out Ginny and Ron, who would be showing them useful landmarks and tricks to using the moving staircases so they would be able to find the tower on their own later.

Finally, the feast came to an end, Ron being one of the last students to push his plate away. Hermione signaled to each of the other pairs of seventh year prefects, and they began to gather their houses together. They let the other three houses leave first, and Harry saw Vicky and Geoffrey call for attention before they turned to lead the way toward their common room.

Everyone but the first years huddled together in little groups as they shuffled through the corridors. Harry saw how frightened and alone most of the youngest students looked, and he realized immediately how lucky he'd been to meet Ron on the train seven years ago. He glanced at his friend, who was pointing at a landing between two of the moving staircases and telling a group of students how you could tell if it would lead you to the correct doorway.

Geoffrey gave the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who paused to tell them how wonderful it was to have them back before she swung open to allow them into their rooms. Ginny gathered the four first year girls, and Ron did the same with the five first year boys, and they led them to their respective dormitories.

"I suppose we should see about our new rooms, don't you think, Harry?" Hermione asked him, looking excited.

"Yeah," he answered, more than a little excited himself. "It'll be strange to be on my own here. Don't know if I can sleep at Hogwarts without hearing Ron snore."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I'm sure he doesn't snore," she said, and then paused as Harry gave her a pointed look. "Oh, I suppose everyone snores a little."

"I'm sure some people snore a little, but Ron doesn't. Ron snores a lot." Harry would have to tell Ginny about this, as telling Hermione how much her sleep would suffer sleeping anywhere near Ron was more than adequate retribution for Ron's earlier teasing.

Hermione cleared her throat and changed the subject, although her brow kept the furrow that had arranged itself there. "I don't know if our rooms will be near each other or not. I did want to discuss some things with you still, if you're not too tired."

"Sure, Hermione. I'll be up for a bit yet."

"If I can't find your room, I'll meet you back here after we have a chance to settle in."

Harry nodded, and Hermione bounced up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. He walked up the second set of stairs, leading him past several rooms of excited-sounding students until he reached the last room.

Harry had visited the seventh year dormitory several times, once to speak to Oliver Wood many years ago, but more frequently to visit the twins in their seventh year before they abandoned Hogwarts for the joke shop. He remembered it being a bit nicer than the other dormitories, with each student having a bit of extra room to store their things.

Ron waved to him as he entered. "Pretty nice, eh? Loads more room in here. You've got a bed, but I don't see your trunk. Come to think of it, Harry, I thought you got your own room."

"I do. That's the doorway to it," Harry said, gesturing to the bed that was missing a trunk at its foot.

"Wicked," Ron intoned. "Are you going to check it out?"

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling more excited about it by the moment.

"What do you do?" Ron asked, and Harry explained how the gateway worked.

Harry took out the scrap of parchment McGonagall had given him earlier, and snuck a look at the password. It was, according to his professor's careful handwriting, ' _Quidditch Cup._ ' He smiled to himself. It was becoming clear to Harry that there was a quite good sense of humor under Professor McGonagall's stern exterior. He pointed his wand at the parchment and muttered, " _Evanesco,_ " and it disappeared.

"Come on. I bet it will work with both of us." Harry opened the bed hangings and climbed inside, kneeling on the bed. He motioned to Ron, who seemed to think it was a bit odd to follow his friend onto a rather small bed.

"This looks really strange, Harry. If Seamus and Dean come in right now—"

"Hurry up, then," Harry said, impatiently, and Ron reluctantly kneeled on the bed next to Harry. "Pull your side of the hangings closed."

Just as the bed was enclosed, Harry felt a sensation not unlike Apparition. He felt the solidity of the bed fall away, and he had to throw his legs out to keep from falling onto his backside. Ron hadn't been as quick, and he was soon sitting on the floor next to Harry.

"Blimey, Harry, that first step is a bit of a challenge, isn't it?"

Harry spoke his opening password, and Ron grinned at him at the door swung open for them.

The room was, by Hogwarts standards, enormous. The walls were Gryffindor scarlet with gold trim, and Harry realized the color scheme must change depending on which house the Head Boy was in. There was a large desk on the far wall, and over it was a long window. The bed was against one wall, and Harry's trunk was neatly placed at the foot of it. A small wardrobe held Harry's clothes, and as he peeked inside, he saw his Firebolt leaning in the corner next to his dress robes. A small doorway and a long bookcase took up the last wall.

"Where does that lead, do you think?" Harry asked, pointing to the doorway.

"Only one way to find out, mate. Do you mind?"

"Go ahead," Harry told him, and Ron crossed the room to open the door. He peeked inside, whistling as he saw what was behind it.

"Absolutely...brilliant. Your own bathroom, Harry. Amazing." Ron looked at Harry with awe.

"You can use it when you want to, Ron," Harry said quickly, wondering if Ron was beginning to resent not being made Head Boy himself. "You know, if the prefect's one is too busy."

"Thanks, but that marble bathtub on the fifth floor is worth the wait, even if you do have to deal with that ruddy mermaid in the painting."

Ron didn't seem at all upset to see Harry's room, and Harry was immensely relieved.

"Do you think we're still in Gryffindor tower?" Harry asked, crossing to the window and squinting out into the night. He couldn't make out anything at first, but as his mind wandered and he began to wonder where Ginny was and if he could still see her before she went to sleep, the view from his window got clearer.

"That's odd," Ron said from behind Harry. "That looks like the same view from the common room's window. Do you think we're that close to it?"

A knock at Harry's door interrupted them, and Harry and Ron exchanged an odd look.

"Does anyone else know how to get here?" Ron asked.

"Well, Hermione does. She can get into our dormitory, and she knows how the gateway works. Maybe she came to see what my room looks like."

At the mention of Hermione's name, a grin broke out over Ron's face.

"Go on then, Ron. Let her in."

The door flew open as soon as Ron reached it, and they found Hermione and Ginny waiting for them.

"Oh, Harry. Isn't it lovely? So much room for books and things. And the window! Have you tried it yet?" Hermione said, speaking very quickly and animatedly.

"What do you mean, tried it?" Harry asked, turning to the window to see if there was anything he'd missed.

"Oh, Harry, it's really interesting," Ginny said, following Hermione into the room. "Go on, think of someplace on the grounds. Anywhere."

Harry cast around for an idea for a moment before settling on the Quidditch pitch. He gasped as a perfect view of the pitch appeared, its stands illuminated in the moonlight. He could see several owls sweeping through, clearly doing their night's hunting.

"Oh, typical," Hermione said. "Always Quidditch."

"So, this window shows you—" Harry began, but Ginny cut him off.

"Whatever you're thinking about, as long as it's on the Hogwarts grounds."

"So, Hermione, what does the library look like at night?" Ron asked, an exaggerated expression of innocence on his face.

"I'll have you know that I had a lovely view of one of the outer courtyards in my window just before I left my room. Perhaps you know which one I mean, Ron. The one near my Arithmancy classroom."

Ron got a far-away look in his eyes, and Harry realized what Hermione was talking about.

"Where's your room, Hermione?" Ron asked, his gaze locked on hers.

"It's actually around the corner. You can walk from Harry's room straight to mine. I don't know if there are any anti-male wards on it, though."

"One way to find out," Ron said.

"Sure," Hermione answered, in that overly-light tone she tended to use when she was covering the effect Ron had on her.

"Well, see you later, Harry," Ron said, hastily pushing Hermione into the corridor and shutting Harry's door behind them.

Harry laughed out loud as soon as they were gone, eliciting a quizzical look from Ginny.

"They once had a very historic conversation in that courtyard," Harry explained to her. "Dead of winter. They nearly froze to death, but they came back to the common room with the dumbest grins on their faces after that."

"Was that when—"

"I assume. Ron would never tell me the specifics."

There was a strange silence, and it seemed Ginny decided to fill it by wandering around the room, examining the bookshelves and running her hand over the clean surface of his desk.

"I've never had so much space all to myself," he told her, trying to start up a conversation.

"Well, if you get lonely, Harry, perhaps I could come and we could...study...together." She winked at him, and he felt his mouth go dry as his body tensed with desire for her.

"I know it's the first day of term," he said, "but perhaps we could study now."

They closed the space between them quickly, Harry's arms encircling her as their lips met. Harry tried to concentrate on how wonderful she felt, but as she pressed harder against him, he found himself obsessed with the conversation he and Ginny had on the train.

He moved to hold her chin in his hands and she gasped with recognition as he did it. 

"I've wanted you to do that since the moment you mentioned it on the train," she whispered against him, and then crushed her lips to his again.

He relished how excruciatingly brilliant she felt as she kissed him with abandon. His breathing got more labored as he let his hands fall to her shoulders, gently squeezing her to him.

He was so nervous that she would be able to feel the way his hands were shaking, but his desire to touch her in a way he hadn't dared to before overrode his nerves. He moved slowly, hoping it was clear to her what he was doing so she could stop him if she didn't want him to do it.

She moved back from him a bit and he took this as her pulling away from him. He stilled his hand and began to move it back to her shoulder, but she broke from the kiss long enough to whisper to him.

"Don't stop," she said, breathlessly, and her hand moved to his and pulled it downward. Harry took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn't make a complete prat of himself.

Ginny was a petite girl, but he found her breast perfectly filled his hand, once he found himself where he'd wanted to be. He didn't have a clue what she'd like or even if something he did could hurt her, but all he could do was trust his instincts.

He squeezed her a bit, not hard, but enough to find out how amazing she felt, warm and firm under his hand. She moaned against his mouth, leaning back further to give him more room to touch her. Hearing her whimper against his lips sent a bolt of desire through him and he was suddenly, painfully aware that they were alone in a room that had a bed and no one else could open the door unless they had the password.

He pictured laying her back on the bed and leaning over her. She'd reach up to take off his glasses, and just that one simple thing would make him want to slip her out of her clothes and show her exactly how much he—

He loved her.

He realized how true it was, although he hadn't put those three words together in his mind before now. He broke away from her, gasping and fighting to pull himself together enough to tell her.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Ginny asked him, her chest heaving a little. Harry felt another shock of instant need for her as he took in her swollen lips, her heavy-lidded eyes, and the flush on her cheeks.

"Nothing. There's something I need to say. Here, sit down," he said, and she began to sit on the side of his bed. The images from his imagination flooded back to him as she did, and he had to shut his eyes for a moment to try to clear his thoughts.

"Really, Harry, are you all right?"

"It's just hard to see you where you are right now and stay away from you," he told her, momentarily embarrassed to admit it, but it was the complete truth and Ginny deserved nothing less. Ginny's eyes dropped to her lap, and he wondered if he hadn't scared her a bit. "You don't have anything to worry about, Ginny. I can control myself."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about how much I _want_ you to join me here."

Harry turned and took several steps across the room, knowing that if he was anywhere near her, he might not be able to finish what he'd decided to start.

"I have something else to tell you, something you need to know. It's not exactly fair, because I have no idea what's going to happen or how long this mess with Voldemort will hang over my head—"

"How many times do we have to tell you, Harry?" she said, exasperatedly. "Stop talking as if you're on your own against Voldemort. None of us know what will happen, with or without Voldemort."

"All right," he told her, although he knew deep down that he still wanted to find a way to keep her safe from the final battle with Voldemort. He knew she was strong and that she could be a powerful asset, but he wondered if he would have the will to fight, knowing that Ginny's safety hung in the balance. He shook his head, knowing he was getting further from the point in his own mind. "That's not what I wanted to talk about."

"So, what's not fair, Harry?" she asked hesitantly. "Please just tell me. If there's something wrong, I'm not sure I can take the suspense."

"I'm in love with you," he blurted out, and he watched as Ginny's mouth fell open in surprise.

"I—I—" she stammered, and she seemed to slump down a bit.

Harry grew concerned. He wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting, but this most assuredly hadn't been it.

"Ginny, it's all right if you don't feel the same way. I just know it's true, and I thought you should know."

"Don't feel the same way?" Ginny said with quiet incredulity. "Don't _feel_ the same way? Harry, are you blind and daft? I've _always_ felt that way. Sure, it began with a crush, but somewhere between you saving my life from that diary and now, I fell completely, utterly, irretrievably in love with the real you, not the Harry Potter my mother told me about when I was little."

Ginny leapt to her feet, quickly making her way to him and encircling him in her arms. She pulled her head back and kissed him, and true joy flooded through Harry as he realized that he was utterly in love with a girl who seemed to love him equally as much.

She pulled away, giving him a look of great reluctance.

"I should go," she said, not looking entirely convinced. "I want to do something completely different from that, you understand, something I'm not sure I'm ready for."

Harry's body surged with energy at the thought of Ginny considering the kinds of things he'd pictured in his mind earlier. His thoughts got cloudy, and it took him a moment to find some words and arrange them into the right order so he would sound as though his brain was still working.

"You should go, then. I'll see you tomorrow," he told her, and he still couldn't believe she truly loved him back.

She gave him one last kiss, and Harry made it last a bit longer by catching the back of her head in his hands and holding her to him. He felt her relax against him, and for a crazy moment, he considered asking her to stay. The only thing holding him back was that he knew what she'd said was true. If she didn't feel ready, he shouldn't ask her to stay.

"I wish I could stay, even just to feel you holding me while we sleep," Ginny said, breaking away from him and stepping back. She looked directly into his eyes, and he was shocked to see how openly her desire played out over her features. "But I know we might not be able to stop at just that."

"It's all right, Ginny. We have all the time in the world," he told her, and was surprised to find, for the first time since he'd learned who Voldemort was and that the dark wizard wanted him dead, he actually did feel as though he had all the time in the world.


	16. Revelations

Ginny walked into the seventh year dormitory and found Parvati and Lavender there, still sound asleep. She climbed onto the bed that was really a doorway to the corridor outside Hermione's room and pulled the bed hangings closed around herself. She nearly fell, forgetting she had to brace herself for the landing, and steadied herself against the wall.

Ginny paused, wondering if Hermione would be awake. Perhaps a more interesting question, she thought to herself as she looked over her shoulder at the bend in the corridor that led to Harry's room, is whether Harry is awake or not.

She pushed that thought from her mind, knowing that if Harry answered his door in his rumpled pajamas with a sleepy look on his face and his hair all mussed up, the entire point of visiting Hermione right now would be utterly lost. Hermione was the only girl she trusted who was as gone in love with someone as Ginny herself was, and she needed some advice.

She knocked quietly, hoping it was loud enough to get Hermione's attention if she was awake, but quiet enough not to wake her if she was asleep. Ginny could hear sounds behind the door, and she realized she might have interrupted something between Hermione and Ron.

Just as Ginny began to contemplate opening the door at the far end of the hallway that put you back in the gateway that led you to the Head Boy's and Head Girl's corridor, the door swung open and Hermione smiled at her.

"Sorry for the wait. I had Crookshanks on my lap, and you know how he gets if you shift him too quickly."

Crookshanks was now sitting on Hermione's bed, and if it was possible for a cat to frown, Ginny could have sworn Crookshanks was doing it.

"It's nice to see you, of course, but isn't it a bit early?" Hermione asked.

"I'm really sorry, Hermione. If I interrupted you or if you wanted to go back to bed, just tell me. I know it's our first Saturday morning, and you've been working so hard. You really deserved to have a lie-in, you know. That's why I knocked so quietly."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ginny," Hermione told her, gesturing for her to come in. Ginny shut the door behind herself as Hermione continued. "I'm always pleased to see you. I do love Ron and Harry, but it's quite wonderful to have a friend who's a girl."

Hermione sat in the chair that was pushed out from her desk and gestured to the bed as a seat for Ginny. Ginny remained standing, pacing a little, and Hermione seemed to take this as her sign to ask a more pointed question.

"Is there something wrong? You look a bit troubled."

"Not troubled, exactly," Ginny began, not really knowing how to name the feelings that had brought her to Hermione for her advice. "I just—well, I just don't know what to do."

"Is it Harry?" Hermione said, in a knowing tone.

Ginny laughed ruefully. "He's the only person who can put me in this state. I lost my concentration in Potions on Thursday afternoon over this, and ended up losing ten points for Gryffindor when I added ginger root to my cauldron at the wrong time. It made the most horrible pink spotted foam that bubbled over the sides and got everywhere, but I just kept stirring it. Didn't even notice, you see? Snape was livid with me. Apparently it's really hard to get the stain out of wood, even with magic. You can still see the outline of my cauldron."

Hermione laughed. "Neville did the same thing, I think, last year."

"Hermione, that's not helping." Ginny frowned, wondering if she'd ever be able to concentrate again. "You know, I used to think back in my first and second year that I could never be any more distracted by Harry than I was then. I thought about him all the time, daydreamed, made up ways he'd notice me. Now, he has noticed me and I still can't get him out of my head during lessons. It's worse now, if anything."

"Ron has the same effect on me sometimes. It gets easier when you've been together longer. It's all so new at first. I can't blame you for wanting to think about it. It's exciting."

"Hermione, that courtyard from your window, the other night...is that where Ron told you he loved you?"

"Not exactly," she began, a mysterious grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "That, he shouted at the top of his lungs in the middle of a crowded hallway, with Harry standing right there."

Ginny gasped. "I cannot believe I never heard about that. Doesn't that seem like the kind of thing everyone would have been talking about?"

"I suppose no one else was listening for it. I'd spent nearly six years waiting to hear it, so it wasn't lost on me."

"Why have I never heard this story?" Ginny demanded, finally stopping her pacing and flopping down on the foot of Hermione's bed. "Go on. Did he kiss you right there, too? What's so special about the courtyard, then?"

"I ran away," Hermione admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "Ron had kissed me a few times before that, but hearing him admit that he didn't want me to leave for France because he was in love with me was too much. I had to get away." The window behind Hermione crystallized into a view of the courtyard again, alight with morning dew as the sun rose higher in the sky in the distance. "He followed me out there in the freezing cold—it was November, you see—and the poor boy thought I'd ran because I didn't feel the same way."

_Harry thought the same thing_ , Ginny thought. _Why are these boys so fatalistic?_

"But you did, of course, and you made my git of a brother the luckiest boy in school by telling him so."

Hermione blushed. "It was quite nice, really. If we ever get—" Hermione cut herself off abruptly, looking at Ginny in an alarmed way.

"What were you going to say?" Ginny asked, with a suspicion that Hermione might be doing a little daydreaming herself.

"Well, it's a long way off, I'm sure. It might never happen, really, so there's no point—"

"Spill it," Ginny told her, in no uncertain terms.

"If we ever get, well, married," Hermione stole a look at Ginny, "I wonder if Dumbledore will let us have the ceremony there."

"As long as you don't insist on doing it in November, I'm sure I'll be glad to be there."

Hermione laughed, covering her face with her hands to hide the raging flush on her cheeks.

"You didn't come here to talk about Ron, though, I'll wager," Hermione said, patting her face with her hands before letting them drop down to her lap. "How are you and Harry?"

"He told me he was in love with me," Ginny admitted, and watched Hermione's joyous reaction play over her face.

"Oh, Ginny. You have no idea how happy that makes me. For you, and for Harry too. Do you know how long I've watched him stomp around this castle, miserable and always cutting us out when he needs us the most? To think that he's finally let someone in that last bit, well, I'm not sure I can explain to you how happy I am for the both of you." She paused for a moment. "You do love him back, don't you?"

"Isn't it odd? Everyone knows how in love I've been with Harry for ages, but both you and Harry seem to have forgotten that. Of course I do, and I told him that."

"Then what on earth could possibly be wrong?" Hermione asked, a bit of a squeal slipping into her voice.

"Hermione, I planned my wedding to Harry Potter when I was eleven. Harry's just realized his feelings for me. If I'm not careful, I'll scare him off."

"Your feelings for Harry then and now are different, and you know it. I'm sure he's just as gone for you as you are for him."

"I don't know," Ginny said, catching herself biting on the tip of her index finger with worry. She dropped her hand to her lap, but it just underscored how worried she felt. "In a way, I _have_ loved him since I was a little girl. I kept thinking I had to get over him, but as I got to know him and we grew up, my feelings just arranged themselves around those changes."

"If it helps, I loved Ron for a long time before I said anything about it. I just kept him around by helping him do his homework until the daft boy realized how we felt about each other."

"Thanks, that does help a bit," Ginny said, laughing. "I'm lucky you have such a nice, quiet place for us to sit and talk. I don't know how I'd manage this without you." 

Ginny knew Hermione hadn't had many female friends in the past, and she wanted Hermione to know exactly how much their friendship meant to her. She'd confided to Ginny last summer that her friends before she came to Hogwarts had mostly been boys, and usually boys who seemed more interested in being helped with their homework and school projects than true friendship.

Hermione blushed, but she seemed pleased.

"You know, if you want to use my room when I'm not here, if you want to get away from the noise in your room or the common room, that would be fine with me. I'll give you the password, if you like. Just knock before you come in, if you don't mind."

"Oh, Hermione. You don't have to give me your password. I don't think you're supposed to tell anyone that."

"Don't be silly. I trust you. I wouldn't tell it to anyone else, and—" Hermione trailed off, and she got the look in her eyes that she usually got just before she said something rather brilliant.

"Hermione?"

"I've figured it out. There's only one person other than Remus Lupin and I who knew about my emergency Portkey when we were in France."

"I thought you said no one else knew about it."

"Well, they didn't. Not specifically. One of the researchers, Amon Dougall, saw me use a spell to levitate it across the room once, and he asked me if I was just being lazy. I told him I couldn't touch it. He got really quiet after that, and then he excused himself."

"Was he one of the researchers?"

"He was," Hermione said, looking dismayed. "No, I must be wrong. It can't have been him. We were friends. I trusted him."

"Harry's father trusted Peter Pettigrew, too."

"I've got to go," Hermione said, standing up. "I need to find Professor McGonagall. I'll see you later, Ginny, all right?"

Ginny followed Hermione from the room, but turned the opposite direction from Hermione, heading toward Harry's room. She reached his door and knocked on it fervently, impatiently hoping Harry would be there and let her in soon.

"Ginny," Harry said as he opened the door, and he smiled at her. "I'm glad to see you."

"You're never going to believe it. Hermione figured out who the traitor was." Harry opened his door wider and let Ginny in. Ron was also there, and Harry's desk was covered with Ron's Quidditch strategies.

"Where is Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Looking for McGonagall."

"She's that sure?" Harry asked, and Ginny explained what Hermione had recalled to her moments ago.

"Oh, that Amon Dougall's a Gryffindor," Ron said, disbelief in his voice. "I saw him in a few of Hermione's message charms. I can't believe it was him."

"Hermione thinks he may have figured out about the emergency Portkey. If he was the only person who knew, who else could have booby-trapped it?"

They sat in Harry's room, waiting for Hermione for what seemed like forever. Harry, Ron, and Ginny eventually tried to work on creating drills for the team from Ron's scribbled Quidditch plays and formations, but it was no good. Whenever they got any momentum whatsoever, one of them would look off into the distance, and they would all begin to wonder what was going on in McGonagall's office.

It was an age before they heard Hermione's rapid, insistent knocking at Harry's door. Ron flew to his feet, crossing the distance to the door quickly with his long strides, and he let her in. Hermione was breathless, gasping in a way that betrayed she had run all the way back.

"What took you so bloody long, Hermione?" Ron said, with traces of annoyance and anticipation in his voice. Hermione flashed him an annoyed look of her own as she struggled to catch her breath.

"I—Professor McGonagall had a lot of—questions for me. She really helped—me figure out—what might have happened. Then we went to see—Professor Jones," Hermione said, between huffs of breath.

Ginny wished they knew more about Hestia Jones, their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Ginny knew she was an Auror, and that she was in the Order, which meant Dumbledore trusted her. All of them had only been to Defense Against the Dark Arts once so far, although she knew Professor Jones had taken Harry aside and asked him to start up the D.A. again.

"Do they think this Amon's the traitor, or not?" Harry asked, and Ginny could see the dangerous look on his face. She knew some part of him had been waiting for this information. The moment he got it, he would long to go after whoever had sold out Hermione and—well, Ginny wasn't quite sure what Harry meant to do when he found the person responsible. Ron had an equally murderous look on his face, and Ginny could see that she and Hermione had their work cut out for them.

"There's to be a meeting of the Order here, in three days, in Dumbledore's office. We'll find out more then," Hermione finished, finally getting her breathing under control.

"Three days!" the boys shrieked in unison.

"What are they bloody waiting for?" Ron added.

"Actually, that timeframe is rather short. Professor McGongall said Dumbledore would have much to do to arrange such a large meeting so quickly," Hermione corrected.

"What are we supposed to do while we're waiting?" Ron demanded.

"The same thing we would have done otherwise. Attend school. Patrol. Study. I intend to have a full life after we've finished with Voldemort and his sodding Death Eaters," Hermione said, a flush rising in her cheeks. "For three days, there's not much we can do about them, so we may as well get on with things." 

There was something else in Hermione's eyes. Ginny could see she was troubled, and she wondered if Hermione might be hiding something about the meeting from them.

"I'm going to go have a lie down," Hermione told them. "I'm exhausted, and there's a lot of revision I want to do later." Hermione spared a glance at Ron, and saw the disappointed look on his face. "You can come along, Ron." She gave him a wan smile, and he gently took her hand to lead her from the room.

The door shut behind them, leaving Ginny alone with Harry. She wished she could concentrate just on that, but something about Hermione still bothered Ginny.

"She's hiding something," Harry announced, voicing Ginny's thoughts rather precisely.

"I was just thinking the same thing. I don't have a clue what it would be, or why she would keep it from us."

"Do you think she'll tell Ron?" Harry wondered aloud.

Ginny turned away from Harry, facing the direction of Hermione's room as she thought about her friend. "As upset as she looks, she really should tell someone." Ginny made a mental note to drop by Hermione's room later that day. She looked back to Harry and found his features were painted with uncertainty and weariness.

"Ginny, can I—" Harry began, then stopped to mash his lips together in frustration.

Ginny went to his side and cupped his cheek in her hand. A shiver went through her at the way he leaned into her, and she pulled him into a gentle hug with her other arm.

"Can you, what?"

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Ginny," he said, haltingly, "but I—I don't know what the right thing to do is. I feel like killing that Amon when we get our hands on him, if he's the one who handed Hermione over to Death Eaters. I know it's wrong and it makes me no better than Voldemort himself, but I keep picturing myself strangling the bastard who put her through all that with my bare hands."

"Shhhh," Ginny whispered into his chest, moving her hand from his cheek to stroke his hair. "I know you're not a murderer, Harry. It's natural to be angry. She's your friend. She's more than that. She's part of you."

Harry pulled her away from his chest and Ginny felt the loss of him against her immediately. His eyes burned into hers. "Can I just hold you?" he asked, his voice breaking a bit as he did. Ginny tried desperately not to burst into tears at the hesitance on his face, and dumbly nodded at him.

She stepped back into his arms and he encircled her. She laid her head back on his chest and listened to his heart beating. The noises against her ear were rhythmic, but quick. He seemed so nervous, and Ginny couldn't quite place why.

"I've never had this before," Harry whispered to her. "Being in your arms, having you in mine...it feels as though it could fix everything."

Ginny's heart broke as she understood what he was trying to tell her. Of course those terrible relatives of his never laid a compassionate hand on him when Harry was a boy. Ginny flashed quickly on images of skinning her knee and having her parents or one of her brothers hold her and stroke her hair until the tears stopped. Harry never had that, and it made her want to spend the rest of her life making it up to him.

"Come here," she said, taking his hand and pulling him across the room. She slipped off her shoes and kneeled on the bed, turning over and lying back against the fluffy, scarlet pillows there.

He looked at her in shock, but didn't move to join her.

"It's all right, Harry. Come here."

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to take off his own shoes, and then hesitantly swung his legs onto the mattress. He was still far away from her, so she put out her hand to pull him toward her.

"Ginny, I—"

"Come here," she said, opening her arms to him. She watched the war play out on his face, and saw the weary side of him win the fight. He scooted toward her and she guided him into her arms, keeping her head just above his as she urged him to lie his head on her shoulder.

"I love you, Harry," she told him, and bent to kiss him gently on the forehead as she brushed at his hair with her hand. He finally seemed to relax, allowing his arm to drape over her, his hand cupping the hollow behind her ear.

They stayed there for a long while, drifting to sleep and awakening to kiss or whisper their love to each other. Ginny woke once to find tears on Harry's face, and she bent to kiss them away.

When it was time for dinner in the Great Hall, Ginny woke Harry with a gentle shake. She wasn't particularly hungry, but their absence from the Gryffindor table would be conspicuous. They rose with great reluctance, Harry pulling her into one more fierce embrace before he let all but her hand go.

As they walked to the Great Hall, everyone else around them seemed to be in black and white. Harry was the only thing in her world right now that was in full relief, glorious blinding color that made her wonder how they'd ever survived without each other.


	17. Hermione's Meeting

Harry walked down the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office with Hermione and Ron, feeling odd that Ginny wasn't with them. Everything seemed to be easier for him if she was there. It struck him just then how much he felt her absence whenever they weren't together, and he sighed deeply.

Hermione's head jerked in his direction as she heard him sigh, and he thought she actually looked a bit guilty.

"Hermione, are you all right?" he asked her, and her expression of remorse deepened. "Don't tell me it's nothing. I know it's not," he said, following his instincts.

"I simply can't believe I didn't remember this before three days ago. I was so sure I was too careful to allow anyone to find out about the Portkey, but I was so utterly wrong. My carelessness got me kidnapped, and nearly got you and Harry killed," Hermione blurted out, and her shoulders slumped as she hung her head.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Don't be daft. We're still not even sure Amon was the traitor. All you were supposed to do was tell anyone if you remembered something, and that's what you did. And Harry and I are fine. Nothing happened. Plus, you remember what Mad-Eye said that day. He said he didn't know if they could have reversed the spell on the Tree of Blood without us. Especially you. Everything works out the way it's supposed to, Hermione. We were all supposed to be there."

"Yeah, Hermione. Don't worry about it. We're addressing it now," Harry told her, and Hermione looked alarmingly close to tears. Now Harry really wished Ginny were here.

"Well, I suppose...we can't change things now, can we?" Hermione asked them.

"No, love, we can't," Ron told her soothingly. "We have to move forward."

"You're right," Hermione said, wiping the beginnings of tears from the corners of her eyes. "Let's go."

They ascended to Dumbledore's office and found that most of the other members of the Order had already arrived. Dumbledore had his back to them, but he seemed to know the moment they entered the room.

"It's time, everyone, to bring the meeting to order," Dumbledore announced, before he'd even turned around. Every conversation in the room came to an abrupt end, and everyone looked expectantly at the Hogwarts Headmaster. "I believe many of you are already aware of recent events, but I would like Miss Granger to go over it from the beginning, to make sure we're all on the same page. If you wouldn't mind, Miss Granger."

"Of course not," Hermione said, a tiny squeak audible in her voice as she began to speak. She cleared her throat and continued. "I was thinking about my time in France last year again, and, while I was sure I never actually mentioned my escape Portkey to anyone, there is one person who may have figured out what it was. 

"I was cleaning up one day, and I nearly picked up the Portkey. I stopped at the last moment, took out my wand, and levitated it across the room to my trunk. Amon Dougall saw me do it, and he made a joke about me being too lazy to walk across the room. I—" Hermione stopped, and Harry realized this was the moment she felt guilty about. "I told him I couldn't touch it. I didn't tell him it was a Portkey, but in retrospect, I think he may have figured it out."

Emmeline Vance gasped, covering her mouth when she realized everyone had turned to look at her.

"It can't be Amon. I know him well. He would never—" Emmeline began, and Dumbledore quieted her with a gentle wave of his hand.

"Emmeline, no one is saying the traitor was unquestionably Mr. Dougall. We know Miss Granger didn't intend to divulge the secret of her Portkey, and it is possible that Mr. Dougall could have known about it without being the person who changed its destination. We are merely gathering information, Emmeline."

"I don't believe it was him either," Hermione said. "It's just the only thing I can remember that was remotely suspicious."

"Thank you very much, Miss Granger. You may sit."

At Dumbledore's words, Ron got up from the chair he was sitting in so Hermione could sit in it, and he moved to the back of her chair, leaning against it.

"We do have other news. This morning, the Healers at St. Mungo's were able to bring all three of the Aurors who were in France investigating the planned attack on Beauxbatons back to consciousness. They are, as the terms of their contract with the Ministry dictates, undergoing interrogation under Veritaserum to determine their guilt or innocence."

Harry thought he could see a fleeting expression of distaste on Dumbledore's face as he said this. It was important to determine if any of those Aurors were the traitors who delivered Hermione and Lupin to Bellatrix Lestrange, but he wasn't sure if he agreed with the Ministry's methods, either.

"I have not heard the outcome of those interrogations, and I fear we may not know for some time. I have gotten word of Miss Granger's recollections to the people responsible for questioning the Aurors, and I believe that will assist them in bringing their job to an end.

"Kingsley, I believe you have some new information for us as well."

Kingsley Shacklebolt pulled himself to his full, considerable height, looking around the room and smiling at certain people before he began to speak.

"Well, on the subject of the missing researchers, our Aurors have uncovered some clues to their whereabouts. We believe we are zeroing in on where they are being held, with information from an inside source." Kingsley's eyes flicked over Snape quickly, but Kingsley also made eye contact with a few other people around the room and Harry thought he might have been imagining things.

"When will we know for certain?" Hermione asked, and she looked surprised to have spoken out so boldly in a roomful of older, powerful wizards and witches.

"Very soon. We have to be careful. We don't want to draw suspicion. However, if the clues we have now play out to their logical conclusion, I believe we will find more than the missing researchers. Everything we know now points to one thing: Voldemort himself will be there as well, and his supporters are rapidly dwindling in number."

Harry decided to take a page from Hermione's book and say exactly what was on his mind. "When do we go?" he asked, looking around the room and waiting for the inevitable round of protests.

He wasn't disappointed. The cacophony in the room was deafening as nearly everyone in the room began to express their strong feelings that Harry should not be involved in the rescue, all at the same time. Harry could only pick out bits and pieces of what was being said. 

Mrs. Weasley was one of the easier voices to make out. "Harry, dear. Certainly you can see that wouldn't be wise. You should let the Aurors handle it. It's what they were trained to do."

Dumbledore raised his hands, and they quieted around him.

"Please, all of you. We will fully address this issue, I assure you," Dumbledore said quietly, and all eyes in the room were on him. "Kingsley, was that all?"

"It was, but...if I may, Albus?" Dumbledore nodded benevolently, and Kingsley continued to speak. "Harry, I would urge you to trust in the Aurors. We will do everything we can to rescue those still being held by Voldemort. There's no place for you in an operation of this kind."

It had been over six years in coming, but Harry finally had enough of being protected, sheltered, and coddled. The anger that rose in him wasn't the whiny impatience of a child, but the frustration of a man who was being kept from the only thing he truly knew he had to do.

"If we know where Voldemort is, I think the time for the final battle has come. We all know I have to do it. None of you can protect me from it. Most of you in this room must know that I'm fated to kill him or die trying. If you don't know that, it's time that you do."

Another burst of sound interrupted Harry, and he dropped his fist the table in front of him in frustration. He could make out voices in the din, but he no longer cared what any of them had to say. Not even Lupin, not McGonagall, not Dumbledore. He knew what was ahead of him, and he also knew none of them could stop him. They could help him, or step aside.

"Everyone, please," Dumbledore said, simply, but this time, it took a much longer time for the room to return to silence. Dumbledore waited, showing no outward sign of irritation or impatience.

"If Harry goes, we're going too. There's no way he's facing this without us," Ron said, just as the noise began to die down. The room erupted again, and both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were red-faced from trying to yell loud enough to be heard by their son.

"Molly, Arthur, all of you. We must discuss this," Dumbledore implored. "Rationally and thoughtfully. Nothing has been decided yet."

"Harry, you must realize that you, Ron, Hermione, and several other Hogwarts students are well known to Voldemort," Lupin said, stepping forward. "If they captured one of your friends, you could end up running headlong into a trap."

"I'm not saying we should leave tomorrow with no plan other than sending me after Voldemort. I'd like to come out of this alive, along with everyone else in this room. I know you all think we're too young, but I didn't write the prophecy that says I'm the one who has to defeat Voldemort. I've spent a lot of time being angry about it, but there's no point. I can't run from it, and I can't hide. What I can do is prepare, and then meet it with my eyes wide open, as strong as all of you can make me. 

"I have so much more on my side than even I've been able to see until now. Three of the finest people in the world are my friends, one of whom is not even allowed to attend these meetings yet, and I don't think I can do this without them. I wish I could protect them, but I know them well enough to understand that they'd never allow me to do this without them at my side."

Harry found Ron and Hermione staring at him with pride, their feelings for him evident in their eyes.

"You can't take them," Mrs. Weasley said, barely controlling her panic enough to speak. "If those Death Eaters got their hands on someone you really care about Harry, they'll use them to lure you out and finish you off for good. You can't take the risk. We'll find another way."

"Mum, there is no other way. Harry knows what he has to do, and I know what that means I have to do." Ron looked at his mother, and Harry had never seen him be so openly defiant to her. Molly Weasley looked as though she was about to explode, looking from Ron to her husband, over and over, her mouth hanging silently open.

"Molly, I am very sorry," Dumbledore told her, a great sadness in his voice. "This is the moment I've been waiting for." He turned, speaking directly to Harry. "Only you would truly know when the time has come to defeat Voldemort once and for all." Dumbledore turned to the rest of the group. "I would like to thank all of you for coming. I will be in touch with each of you soon. For now, I need to speak with Harry alone. Minerva will show you out and address any questions you might have."

Every member of the Order stood, motionless, in shock, before they gathered themselves and moved to the door. Mrs. Weasley headed straight for Ron, but Mr. Weasley caught her by the arm and pulled her toward the door to Dumbledore's office, whispering something to her. Although Harry couldn't hear what either of them said, both of their tones were rather insistent.

Ron and Hermione were the last two in the room other than Dumbledore and Harry, and Dumbledore slipped to the far side of his office while Harry said a few words to his friends before they left.

"I might never be able to go home to the Burrow again. Mum looked like she'd like to kill me herself and save the Death Eaters the trouble."

"She knows I won't be able to stop at least two of her children from following me into the battle, Ron. She's beside herself because she loves you and Ginny. I wouldn't have expected anything else."

"Come on, Ron. Let's leave Harry alone. We'll hear more about this later," Hermione said, pulling at Ron's hand.

"My mum's out there, Hermione. Do you really think I'll make it back to the common room?"

"Professor McGonagall will help us, I promise. Come on, let's go."

After a moment, Harry found himself alone with Dumbledore. A long silence stretched out between them, but Harry knew his headmaster would speak when he was ready.

"I know what a long, often frustrating road you've had to travel since your return to the wizarding world six years ago. I wished so many times I could have given you all the information you have now, but you must realize now that it was not safe. Until you mastered Occlumency, that scar linked your mind to Voldemort's and put us all in potential danger. Even if it had been possible to keep that information from Voldemort, I could still not have told you. Think about how you are feeling right now, Harry. If I had laid this burden at your feet when you were eleven, or thirteen, or fifteen, do you think you could have borne it?"

Harry shook his head, finally understanding why it had been necessary for Dumbledore to keep things from him. He could barely shoulder the full understanding of the responsibility he had now, even after having all these years to prepare himself for it.

"It all comes down the prophecy, doesn't it? I kill him, or he kills me. All I need to know is what the power is that Voldemort 'knows not.'"

"If I knew what it was, Harry, I would tell you. I am no longer holding any secrets from you. I have pondered this question since I first heard the prophecy. The only answer I have is not an answer at all. Only you will know what the power is. Only you will recognize it for what it is."

Harry sighed deeply. He didn't even know where to start, and he told Dumbledore so.

"A man is only as strong as those who support him, and those who need support from him. Begin where your strength is. They know you in a way you do not know yourself, Harry. Trust them. See yourself through their eyes. In that, I believe, lies the answer."

Harry left Dumbledore's office and walked through the corridors, his body coursing with a purpose he'd never felt as strongly before. He would call his friends to his room and speak to them until he was hoarse. When he was done, they would know everything he knew. He intended to hold nothing back, sharing any detail he could recall in the hopes that one of them would see what he couldn't.

He knew the prospect of lying himself bare to them should make him nervous, but he couldn't feel it. Ginny had told him three days ago that Hermione was a part of him, and she'd been right. All three of them had become a part of him, in fact. Each one of them made him a better person, stronger than he would have been without them. 

He just hoped he meant the same to each of them.


	18. The Night of the Full Moon

Ginny told herself she was going to Hermione's room as she sneaked into the seventh year's dormitory and used the gateway to Hermione and Harry's rooms. She dropped just outside Hermione's door and then glanced at the bend in the corridor that would take her to Harry's room instead.

Ginny looked at Hermione's door the same way she would look at Hermione herself if she'd been standing there, needing to find a bit of courage before she decided what to do.

Harry gathered them in his room yesterday, just after the meeting of the Order. They recounted the events of the meeting for Ginny, and Harry told them all about the conversation he'd had with Dumbledore.

That was when it happened. Harry gave them each a determined look, and then began to tell them things. He started back in his own first year, giving them details of his encounter with Quirrel he'd never shared with them before. He told them about the hours he'd spent in front of the Mirror of Erised, how it had nearly beaten him and how narrowly he'd escaped becoming one of the people who wasted away before it, giving up his reality for the world the Mirror showed him.

He continued to his second year after that. Harry went to Hermione and kneeled in front of her, telling her how much it destroyed him to see her petrified by the Basilisk. Then he returned to Ginny and told her that his heart still caught in his chest at the thought of how close they'd come to losing her. He told them about the fight in the Chamber of Secrets, how he'd nearly lost his will to go on, and how powerful even the memory of Tom Riddle had been.

When he talked about his third year, he told them exactly what he heard in his mind whenever a Dementor was near. He told them about the impression of blinding light and the screams of his mother, and how he sometimes woke up and thought he could hear her screaming all over again. He told them exactly how he'd felt as his dreams of clearing Sirius' name dissolved before him, and how it had torn out his heart to watch him fly away on Buckbeak, unable to save Harry from the Dursleys.

Harry spared some happy memories of his fourth year, talking about all of them together at the Quidditch World Cup, but told them that the thought that Barty Crouch, Jr. had been there in the box with them all the time really bothered Harry, once the events of the year unfolded and the dust had settled. When he'd reflected on that, lying in the Hospital Wing after the fourth task, Harry had come to feel that nothing he enjoyed in his life came without a price, and usually a dire one, at that. They'd enjoyed watching the match, but the man who would come to point a wand at Harry with the intent of killing him had been there, silently listening and plotting. It was Harry himself, in fact, who'd been daft enough to leave his wand where it could be stolen, and made Barty Crouch's escape from Winky possible.

He apologized to Hermione for missing Ron so entirely that it had made him impossible to deal with, during the time the boys didn't speak to each other. Harry admitted he had felt secretly guilty for wishing Ron would be friends with him again, especially when Hermione was being so supportive, all the while having her own problems to deal with as she'd been brought into the mess with Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet.

He told them every excruciating detail of the battle in the graveyard with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, including how Cedric had died and how helpless Harry had been to stop it. His encounter with the impostor Moody and how he'd been close to death yet again drew a gasp from Hermione. Harry had failed to tell them before how close Barty Crouch, Jr. had come to killing him.

Harry's memories from his fifth year were dominated by Umbridge and his many detentions. They'd all eventually found out about her quill and how he'd been tortured as he wrote out his lines, but he told them exactly what it felt like, and how some parts of his hand still ached from time to time because of it. He told them about having to protect Dudley from Dementors outside Privet Drive, and how helpless he'd felt as he watched Ron and Ginny's father in the vision that allowed the Order to go to his rescue.

Harry told them of his realization that Voldemort had allowed the Order to rescue Arthur Weasley on purpose, to give Harry reason to believe they should begin another rescue mission if he got another vision of someone in the Order being tortured. He'd fallen for it, and Sirius had paid with his life.

Harry told each of them how scared he'd been that he'd lose them during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. He swallowed several times before he told them what it had felt like to watch Sirius fall through the veil, and how he hadn't truly believed Sirius was gone for quite some before he'd been able to accept it. He admitted that he'd attempted an Unforgivable Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange, causing Hermione to gasp before she apologized and told Harry to continue. Dumbledore's battle with Voldemort dominated the rest of Harry's story from this point, as he explained what it felt like to have Voldemort force himself into Harry's body, even using Harry's own voice to beg Dumbledore to kill them both as Voldemort possessed Harry.

There had been a long silence after that before Harry was able to move on. When he'd gathered himself, he gave Ron and Hermione each a sentimental look before telling them how happy he'd been to see two of his best friends finally open up to each other. He turned to Ginny and told her how it hadn't been so bad to have Ron and Hermione suddenly quite interested in spending time alone, and how he'd come to need to have her with him. He admitted that, at first, he'd been as intent as Ron had been to keep Hermione from the mission the Order had sent her on, and how powerless he'd felt that Hermione was able to help where he could not. He recalled everything he could from the battle in the field, his concerns for Hermione, his fear for Ron if he couldn't control his anger enough to stop himself from killing Bellatrix Lestrange.

He told them so much that afternoon, pacing and talking for hours as the three of them sat silently by, trying to take it all in. Although they felt they'd been a part of Harry's journey, Ginny knew none of them had realized exactly what Harry'd had to endure.

Harry missed breakfast that next morning, and according to Hermione, had skived off all of his classes that day. Ginny tried to dismiss it, telling herself he needed some time alone to gather his thoughts. She couldn't imagine having to tell anyone what Harry had told them, especially someone as secretive as Harry was.

She kept telling herself to be patient, that it had only been one day, but she just couldn't leave him on his own for any longer. He was likely to pull away, back into himself and away from her, and Ginny didn't know if she could endure that. She would never be able to get to sleep tonight, knowing she could wake up the next morning and Harry, the Harry who had opened himself to her, might be gone.

With one last deep breath, she knocked at Harry's door, waiting only a moment before he opened it. He looked a bit hollow, but better than she feared he might. Neither of them said a word to each other, and nearly a minute passed before anything happened.

"Harry, if it's too soon, you can send me away. I just—I needed to see you. I wish I had a better excuse, and believe me, I tried to come up with one. I know what yesterday must have taken out of you, but Harry, I suppose I'm just selfish."

It was a small thing, but Harry pulled the door open just a bit more, a quiet invitation, a reassurance. Ginny ducked her shoulder to move past him, but he caught her in his arms and pulled her into his chest.

Ginny distantly heard the door shut behind her as she collapsed against him in relief. The possibility of losing him, of losing the Harry who held nothing back from her, had hovered over her like an unwanted ghost. Only now could she feel the exhaustion it brought with it.

"I thought I'd lost you," she told him.

"I wanted to pull away so much," he admitted, looking deep into her eyes. "Telling you, Ron, and Hermione those things must be the most difficult thing I've ever done. I never intended anyone else to know what's happened to me. It made it possible to go on, to have moments when I could pretend none of it was real."

"It won't be for naught, Harry. The answer is there. There's a weakness, something. We'll find it."

"I don't want to think about that now."

"I don't either," she admitted, feeling guilty for wanting to pretend, just for a few moments, that they didn't have a confrontation with Voldemort hovering just out on the horizon. "I just want this. Nothing else. Just this."

Their lips crushed together, heated, rushed, and frantic. The last of Harry's control seemed to have broken, and the rules and barriers Ginny could always feel around him were utterly gone. It scared her a little because she could feel an equal reaction building within her.

She wasn't sure if she began to edge backward, if Harry was nudging her, or some combination of both, but she stopped when she felt the backs of her legs bump against the foot of Harry's bed. She pulled her head back and Harry's eyes flew open at the loss of contact.

Ginny wasn't a fool; she could sense where they were headed. She could feel Harry's raw need as if it was her own, and she couldn't deny that she wanted him too. She found she wasn't worried too much for herself, but she was for Harry. It felt too soon for him. She'd loved Harry for so long that considering giving herself to him was frightening, but it was a very real possibility. Harry was upset, however, and might not be thinking things through.

"Harry, are you—"

He stopped her with another kiss, dizzying Ginny with its power. She had to work to keep the thought in her mind, and it echoed oddly in her thoughts.

_Harry, are you sure you're ready for this? Harry, are you sure you're ready for this? Harry, are you sure you're—_

It was like looking at your own face in the mirror for too long, watching as it began to look frighteningly unfamiliar, or staring at a word for so long that you couldn't remember what it meant anymore. She knew she was getting the words in the right order in her head, but she was losing her grasp on what she'd been trying to say.

Ginny felt her knees bend and she was sitting on the bed before she could remember deciding to do it. Harry kneeled in front of her, and she took his glasses and pulled them away from his face. Ginny gasped as Harry took them from her and threw them to the bedside table. She heard them crack and thought to herself that they'd have to repair them later as Harry leaned over her to kiss her.

She realized he was barely touching her, and wasn't putting any of his weight on her as he hovered over her. She loved the way he treated her, as though she was terribly fragile and would break at the slightest pressure. She wasn't sure why she liked that so much. She hated when anyone assumed she was weak because she was small or because she was young, but the careful way Harry held her or touched her made her feel as though he revered her.

Her Gryffindor tie, secured neatly around her neck, was beginning to feel like a noose. All of her clothes suddenly seemed too tight, and her desire to be free of them frightened her again. She felt her heart racing in her chest as she tried to decide what to do.

Her hands shook as she fumbled at the knot around her neck, the silky fabric eluding her and frustrating her. Harry pulled back from her and gave her a long, searching look. It was startling how much just this could affect her. She'd never looked for this long into someone else's eyes, and if it had been anyone other than Harry she would have had to turn away. She could see so much of him, his pain and their newfound joy, his burden and the hope that it would soon be over, but most of all, his love for her.

He must be able to see right into her, as well. He could surely see how much Ginny needed to be closer to him, how much more she needed from him.

He laid a hand over both of hers, then moved each of them out of the way in turn. She felt her tie loosening, the ends pulling free of the knot, and then a slipping feeling at the back of her neck as Harry pulled it out of her collar. His eyes never left hers, and she shivered at bit beneath him at the intensity between them.

His hand dropped to her breast and she gasped just before he captured her mouth with his own. She longed to cry out, but all she could manage was a desperate whimper, stolen from her by his lips.

She could feel Harry's fingers playing over her but the clothes between them stole what should have been rightfully hers. She could only feel a shadow of what he was giving her, an afterimage of it, like staring at the sun and then closing your eyes to see an echo of it played out on your eyelids.

Ginny fumbled with the buttons running down the center of her chest, rejoicing a little inside every time she won the battle with one. When she'd finished, she yanked at her blouse where it tucked neatly into the waistband of her skirt, pulling it loose and letting it fall open. She guided his hand underneath her first opened barrier, relishing the way his kiss intensified as he touched her over the thin fabric of her bra.

Harry slipped his other arm behind her back and pulled her up, toward him. She wondered why until she felt him easing the sleeve of her blouse over her shoulder and down her arm, following it with the other. He laid her back against the bed, urging her toward the headboard as he settled next to her.

Propped on his elbow, his hand traced the lines of her arm, starting from her shoulder until he reached her hand. He enveloped her hand with his, pulling it to his lips and closing his eyes as he gave it a gentle kiss. His mouth followed back along the trail his hand had taken, and soon his lips found her shoulder, her neck, and the hollow behind her ear. He pressed against her a bit more as he moved over her to kiss her, and just that little bit of his weight on her made her long for more. She created an image in her mind of him moving over her with no more barriers between them and her body flooded with warmth.

She took one hand from his shoulders, remembering for a moment how they'd broadened as they'd grown up together, and slipped it behind her back. The two clasps holding her bra together snapped apart under her fingers. She started to reach toward her shoulders to slide the straps down her arms, but Harry's hand caught hers and he guided it to his back.

He pulled back a bit and locked his eyes on hers again. Almost as much as she loved Harry himself, she loved the way he looked at her. No one saw this part of Harry but her; this Harry was hers and hers alone. He leaned down to kiss her as he slid the straps down her arms in turn, then broke the kiss to rise over her. He still held her eyes with his own, and she shivered beneath him with anticipation. Harry was about to become the first person to see her this way. It was the way she'd always imagined it, though she'd never truly allowed herself to believe it would come to pass.

His green eyes, darkened in the moonlight that streamed in the charmed window behind them, stayed on hers as his hand covered her bare breast. Her nipple brushed against her palm as he touched her, and she felt an insistent need within her for more. She arched her back, pressing herself against him, and he rewarded her by circling a finger around her nipple, slowly and hesitantly at first. He pressed just a little bit harder, and Ginny gasped and clutched at him.

Her reaction seemed to fuel him and his gaze burned so powerfully into her now that she had to fight not to shut her eyes. The tremble in his hand disappeared and it was suddenly as though they'd been here already. They seemed to know each other so well, though Ginny knew neither of them had ever done this before.

Harry kissed his way from her lips, down her neck, across her shoulder, and then over the curve of her breast. Ginny was suddenly, oddly self conscious as she looked down to see Harry, fully clothed, with his tongue slipping out of his mouth to tease her nipple. She crossed one arm over her other breast and pulled him closer so she wouldn't feel quite so exposed.

Harry pulled back with a worried look on his face and she was afraid he was going to stop. She had to explain, but she wasn't sure how to do it without sounding silly.

"Harry, it's just—no one has ever seen me like this before," she whispered.

"We don't have to do anything, Ginny," Harry said quickly, and Ginny was touched at how honestly concerned he looked for her.

"It's not that, I just feel a little..." she tried to find the right word, needing Harry to understand how she was feeling, "...exposed."

Harry kissed her hand where it was lying against her neck, then worked his way slowly down the arm that was hiding her from him. He looked into her eyes again and she knew it was silly to feel shy in front of him.

"Do you want me to tell you what I see?"

Ginny managed a quick nod, holding her breath and feeling her heartbeat begin to speed up even more.

"I see you, even more beautiful than I imagined. I see the reason I was able to get through yesterday afternoon. I see why I need to end things with Voldemort, because I finally know where I want to be and what I want to do. I see the person I want to take care of, and the only one I want to take care of me. Not to mention, I see the best Chaser in school," he added with a wink, and Ginny laughed.

"Ron would kill us if he knew we were doing this just before a match."

"Ron would kill us if he knew we were doing this _at all_."

They shared a laugh and her arm fell away. They kissed again, and Ginny felt Harry's hand move from her breast to rest on the flat of her abdomen.

She did feel more comfortable with him now, and it made her hunger to see more of him as well. Harry still wore everything he'd had on when he'd greeted Ginny at the door, and she wanted to feel his skin against hers.

She reached up and found the buttons at the front of the flannel shirt he was wearing, and worked the first one free. The next four followed quickly, but as his hand circled lower and lower on her stomach she found it hard to control her fingers. It seemed to take forever before she managed to work the last two buttons free, and he shrugged out of his shirt as soon as she began to pull at it.

Harry kissed his way down to her breast again, but continued quickly past to touch his lips gently to her stomach. Her muscles twitched under him as his hand splayed out wide and brushed lightly over the skin near his lips.

She tensed a little as he slid down a bit, but he continued past her skirt. He didn't stop until he got to her feet, where he carefully pulled away her shoes and socks. She was surprised at how strongly she reacted to such a simple gesture, and her stomach tightened with desire as he placed a feather-light kiss on her ankle before he came back to her. She cupped the side of his face and kissed him, softly at first, then more urgently as his hand returned to her breast.

She wasn't sure what should come next, but all she knew was that the feel of Harry's skin against hers was the only thing that mattered to her now. She wanted him, all around her, everywhere she looked and everywhere she touched. She slid her hands down his back just to follow the lines of his shoulder blades, memorizing each angle and the way it felt under her hands. She felt suddenly shy again when she found the waistband of his trousers with her fingers, wanting him out of them, but unsure how she should do it.

Harry reacted to her hand sliding around to the buckle of his belt with a loud, sharp breath. She tried to open it, but it was difficult to do at this angle with her shaking hands. She grew impatient, but that only made her fingers less nimble, and she swore under her breath with frustration. His hand replaced hers and made faster work of it, the belt coming undone quickly, followed by the button and zipper of his trousers. 

Ginny pulled downward at his waistband, blushing a little as she brushed his backside with both hands as he shifted his weight to his upper body to help her. She noticed Harry's feet were already bare as she pulled his trousers free of his ankles, and she echoed Harry's kiss on her ankle with one of her own for him.

He pulled at her arms, urging her to settle next to him again. His hand fell on the zipper at the side of her skirt, and she noticed how itchy and uncomfortable it felt against her legs. She wanted it gone, to feel Harry's skin against hers along her entire body. She pushed against Harry's hand with her hips, urging him to find the zipper and free her.

Their eyes met again, and she could see a question in his. ' _Do you want this?'_ he was asking her. She felt a shiver of fear, realizing what they were about to do, but she found no uncertainty within her as she considered the enormity of what stretched before them. She answered him with a kiss, covering his hand with hers and urging him to pull the zipper down.

She lifted her hips from the bed as he pulled her skirt away. He ran the palms of his hands back up her legs, her hips, teasing her with a quick brush over her nipples. Ginny flattened her hands on his back as she realized she wanted to feel his weight on her stomach, and she silently urged him with her hands to shift onto her.

He pulled back a little, a shadow of a wicked smile on his face, and he brushed his hand over the front of her knickers. She gasped a little and she knew she wanted him to touch her. His hand circled lower, and her eyes slipped shut just as he bent to place a long, searching kiss on her lips.

He held the kiss as he flattened his hand and slid it under her knickers, and she lifted her hips into him. His fingers moved so slowly, inching closer to where she needed to feel him against her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as his finger entered her, and she dug her nails into his shoulders before she could stop herself. The palm of his hand brushed against her, and she blushed as she realized how many times she'd touched herself there while thinking about him. She moaned against his lips, and he seemed to take that as encouragement.

He touched her, learning quickly what made her respond. He kissed her, whispered to her how beautiful she was as his hand moved in tiny, glorious circles against her. It was difficult at first to allow herself to get lost in what he was doing for her. Part of her still worried about how she looked or what Harry was thinking, if this was right or if they should have waited. As the movements of Harry's hand quickened, it became harder and harder to think, and finally her concerns dropped away entirely.

She could hear the sounds of her own quick, erratic breaths as they echoed in the room. Those breaths turned to the syllables of his name as she felt herself close to her peak. 

"I love you, Ginny. You're so beautiful," Harry whispered to her, and the sound of his voice in her ear sent her over the edge. Bright light exploded behind her eyes and she cried out, forgetting to be quiet as wave after wave of a feeling she'd only felt a shadow of before washed over her.

She found Harry's eyes as she floated back to earth and found them nearly black, just a sliver of jade visible around his pupils in the darkness. She wanted him so badly. She needed to feel the length of his body against her, to feel him inside her and know he was hers.

Harry slid her knickers down her legs and she fought the urge to hide as he stared openly at her before returning to her side. They pushed his underwear down together, and Ginny felt silly blushing as she brushed her hand against him. He gasped and thrust against her, and she felt a dizzying surge of power. She closed her hand around him, and he was hard and warm against the palm of her hand. She moved her hand just a little and Harry's head fell to her shoulder as he bit back a cry.

She moved her hand again, feeling him pulse against her skin. He quickly pulled away from her and she gave him a surprised look, wondering if she'd hurt him somehow. Harry shut his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Ginny thought back through everything she knew from overhearing other girls talking at school and the one book of her mum's she nicked several years ago, and she realized he must have nearly lost his control a moment ago.

Ginny reached down and pulled at Harry's hips, trying to urge him to move over her. If she had to wait one more moment for him to be with her, she thought she might go mad. He hesitated for a moment before he shifted himself, bracing himself on both arms, and he leaned down to kiss her.

Ginny thought back to a conversation she'd had with Hermione over the summer, as they laid in the darkness of the room they shared. She'd asked Hermione if it would hurt, and it had taken a moment before Hermione answered her.

"Yes, it will," she'd said, finally. "Not a lot, but not a little, either. It doesn't last, though. It's over before you know it, and then it's brilliant."

Harry moved against her, waiting for her to give him a sign that she was ready. She moved her hips against him, and their eyes found each other as he began to fill her. He moved slowly, shutting his eyes for a moment, then opening them again to look at her.

Ginny tried not to tense up, but there was a pressure building within her and she knew somehow that the moment Hermione had warned her about was about to come. Harry stopped for a moment and she knew he was more afraid of hurting her than she was to be hurt. She leaned upward to kiss him, then told him with her eyes that it would be all right.

The pain that came to her was searing, pushing tears from her eyes. Harry kissed them away, stilling himself as he waited for her to recover. Ginny took several deep breaths and found the pain subsiding quickly. She moved her hips against him and the pain was replaced with the most wonderful sensation of being complete.

He pulled away from her, making her cry out with the loss of him, but he returned to fill her again, slowly and carefully. She rolled her hips as they came completely together, and Harry moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

She could see how hard he was trying to control himself, and she could feel his body shaking against hers with the effort. She realized the only thing she wanted was to see that control shatter. She wanted to watch the moment his need for her overwhelmed everything else within him.

She looked over his shoulder to the charmed window and saw the view was changing. It was as if they were on a broom, flying through the night sky. Stars and filaments of clouds rushed by as they sped toward the large, full moon in the distance.

She ran her hands down his chest, finally resting them on his hips. She could feel him thrusting into her and was overcome by the aura of power around him as he moved within her. He began to move faster, even more powerfully, and she angled her hips and met his every move. She could feel him brushing against the same place he'd teased with his hand earlier, and just the memory of what that had felt like pushed her over the edge again.

She cried out his name and felt his movements become more erratic, his long thrusts become shorter, and she heard her name torn from his lips as well. She was still dizzy when she felt Harry's lips on her cheek, her forehead, and her eyelids. They stayed together for awhile, although Ginny had no sense of time to use to measure it. When Harry finally pulled away, she was sure they hadn't been together long enough and whimpered in protest to tell him so.

The room felt suddenly cold, and she shivered against him as he settled next to her. Harry pulled both sides of the bedcovers over them, cocooning them in blankets and sheets of Gryffindor scarlet and gold. They turned in toward each other and Harry shut his eyes to sleep.

Ginny found herself stroking the hair away from his forehead to rid him of the shadow it cast over his face so she could watch him sleep. She'd never done that before, always sensing that he liked to keep his scar hidden, even from her. His breathing became deep and regular and she watched him for a long time before she found herself yawning with exhaustion.

She laid her head on his chest as he moved onto his back in his sleep, and fell asleep quickly as she listened to the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart.


	19. Finite Incantatem

Harry awakened, blinking as his vision went from fuzzy to only slightly blurry. He blearily groped at the bedside table for his glasses, and was confused to find them far from where he normally left them. His arm ached as he moved it, and he found there was a dull pain in his shoulders and back as well.

He put his glasses on, surprised to see a long crack in the lens over his right eye. He caught a glimmer of red splayed over his chest and felt the weight there, and looked down to see Ginny still asleep and lying half on top of him.

Everything flooded back to him at once as he felt their bodies still molded together under the covers he'd wrapped around them. He held her closer, relishing the feel of her in his arms. 

He wished he could let her sleep, but he had to get up and he didn't want to leave her without seeing her and talking to her.

"Ginny," he whispered in her ear, shaking her shoulder gently. She moaned and snuggled further into his chest, and he wondered if he really had to get up.

"I'm still sleepy," she complained as Harry continued to shake her.

"Ginny, I have to go," he told her, though he still wasn't sure it was true. He did have Defense Against the Dark Arts in just a half hour according to the clock on his wall, which had the names of each of his classes arranged around the outer circle of its face and hands that moved closer and closer to them as the time for each class approached. It was the one lesson that seemed too important to miss, and it was the only thing that made him consider leaving Ginny and his warm bed behind.

"Harry?" she said, lifting her head from his chest and looking around. He saw a flush on her cheeks as realization came to her just as it had come to him a moment ago.

"Good morning," he told her, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Good morning," she murmured, turning toward him to kiss him. Her breasts brushed against his chest as she moved and it made getting up the last thing on Harry's mind. "What time is it?"

"It must be around half past eight," he told her, struggling to keep his mind clear.

"Don't you have Defense soon?" she asked, looking at his clock for confirmation.

"I do," he admitted, with great regret. "It's the one lesson I really can't miss."

"Of course you can't, Harry. We have a D.A. meeting tonight as well, don't we?"

"We do," he admitted, and knew he would have to get up. "I love you, Ginny," he told her, knowing in his heart it would always be true.

"I love you too, Harry."

"Are you—I mean, do you think we—?"

"I don't regret a thing, Harry."

Something still tickled the back of Harry's mind, as though there was something very important they'd forgotten. It hit him all at once, and he could feel potential disaster looming over him. It wasn't Voldemort who would kill him; it would be Mrs. Weasley if something were to come of his carelessness the night before. He couldn't believe they hadn't done anything to protect Ginny, although he knew two different spells that would only have taken a moment to perform.

"Ginny, we didn't—we didn't do anything to keep you from getting—" he trailed off, unable to speak the rest of it aloud.

"Harry," Ginny began, the puzzled look on her face resolving to understanding. "It's all right. There's a potion. I've been—" she stopped herself, blushing a bit. "I've taken it ever since the moment I considered this a possibility."

"I can't believe it," he whispered. "You did that for me?"

Ginny sat up, looking down at him as he blinked up at her.

"It makes me so sad, Harry, the way you doubt yourself."

"Well, Ginny, I've thought about this, but I didn't think you did. I shouldn't tell you how much I've thought about it, actually. It's a little embarrassing."

"How much _you've_ thought about this? I've had years of thinking of you before you even noticed me."

"I was a prat not to notice you. And I've thought about this enough in the last year that I've probably caught up to you, despite you having a bit of a head start." He paused, looking at her as the sunlight streamed around her from the window. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She kissed him and the kiss deepened quickly. His hands twisted in her hair as he pulled her down to him, and he tried to urge her to move over him. She pulled away a bit, and he groaned in frustration.

"You don't have much time, Harry. You should get up now."

"You're right," he told her, throwing the clock an evil look. He sat up, grabbing his wand from the bedside table and quickly fixed his glasses before he got out of bed. 

Ginny whistled at him and he blushed a little, pulling a robe from the chair next to his desk and wrapping it around himself.

"I'll get you back for that," he said, and she giggled a little as she snuggled back into the bedcovers. He looked at the way they fell around her body, molding to her curves, leaving her shoulder enticingly bare, and it was an act of the greatest self-control to turn away from her.

By the time he got out of the shower, she was asleep again. He dressed quietly, pulling his clothes from the closet and selecting the correct textbook from the pile on his desk. He glanced over the desk at his window and found it filled with a simple view of the sun rising beyond the grounds of the castle. He realized it was because he was thinking of nothing but Ginny, and there was nothing the window could show him to distract him from how much he longed to keep her in his thoughts.

He crossed the room, brushing her hair away from her face and kissed her on the forehead. She stirred a bit but didn't seem to wake up, and he left the room as quietly as possible. He went through the door at the end of the corridor and made his way to the common room, where he, Hermione, and Ron usually met before the classes they shared. Hermione was waiting there, but Ron was still missing.

"Do you know where Ginny is, Harry? She wanted me to look over something for her before she takes it to Transfiguration this afternoon, but I haven't been able to find her. She wasn't at breakfast, but she's never really been much of a morning person."

"Ah, well, we do have a match coming up," he began, wondering if he could possibly play this off as the truth. "Perhaps she went out for an early fly at the pitch."

"I thought that too, but her broom was still under her bed. I'm starting to get worried, Harry. It's not like Ginny to disappear without telling anyone anything, and—"

"She's all right, Hermione. I know where she is," he told her, stopping at that and praying Hermione would leave it there as well.

"Well, if you knew all the time why did you—" Hermione began with an officious tone, breaking off as realization dawned on her face. 

"Morning, you two," Ron greeted them, thumping down the stairs toward them. "Ready for some Defense?"

"I brought you each an apple from breakfast," Hermione told them, pulling two large, red apples out of her bag and handing one to each of them. "I have another in case either of you are still hungry."

"Thanks, Hermione," Ron said, attacking the fruit with zeal. He struggled to chew and swallow his first bite before turning to Harry. "I was up late patrolling last night, but what's your excuse? Why'd you miss breakfast?"

Harry felt trapped. He knew there were a thousand innocent answers to Ron's question but he couldn't form the words. He was terrified that Ron would be able to see right through him. Knowing your sister is dating your best mate and being fine with that is one thing, but knowing what Ginny gave to him the night before was quite another.

"Ron, after what Harry's been through in the past few days, I'm sure he needed his sleep," Hermione chastised him, and Harry shot her a grateful look.

"Oh. Sorry, mate. In fact, get as much sleep as you can. We have that match against Hufflepuff coming up, and we'll need you sharp." Hermione needled him in the ribs with her elbow and he looked at her in surprise. "What?" he asked, truly befuddled.

"There are things other than Quidditch that matter, Ron," she told him.

"Of course there are," Ron told her, shaking his head at Harry. "But that doesn't mean Quidditch isn't important, does it, Harry?"

"Oh, no. I'm not getting in the middle of this," he said, smiling at his friends.

"I'm glad you're all right, Harry. You had us worried for a bit there, yesterday," Hermione told him.

"I'm fine," he told her, meaning it completely for the very first time.

"Come on, we'll be late," she said, brushing a tear away from her eye as she turned from them to walk through the portrait hole.

"Honestly," Ron said under his breath to Harry. "That girl gets emotional at the smallest things sometimes."

"It's all right, Ron. That's why you love her."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, grinning at Harry. "Let's go."

* * *

Professor Jones walked to the back of the classroom and all eyes followed her as she moved past them.

"Today, we will be addressing ways to overcome powerful spells. As you all know, sometimes the simple spells you've used during your early years here at Hogwarts are not strong enough to block or overcome a more complicated or more powerful spell.

"You can address this with stronger blocking spells, but it is not the only way. You can use the simple spells you know so well if you find a way to make them powerful enough. The easiest way to do this is to cast them along with another witch or wizard.

"We could spend the afternoon talking about this, but I think it would be more effective to jump right in. You're all quite advanced in Defense, so I will give you this assignment. I'm going to leave and block this door. As soon as I'm gone, you may form into groups of three or four and use any spell you know to get the door open. Do, please, try to leave the castle standing. I don't relish explaining to Dumbledore why we've destroyed his school." She winked at them, and most of the students laughed.

Hermione's hand shot into the air, and Professor Jones nodded to her.

"Will you tell us what spell you plan to use on the door?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger. I can tell you that the easiest way to do it does not require you to know what spell you are breaking. I realize that isn't what you wanted to hear, but I do have a spot of good news for all of you. As soon as you are able to make it through the door, you are dismissed for the afternoon." The class cheered, and she quieted them with a raise of her hand. "That is, as long as you all promise to spend some time practicing shared spells before our next meeting."

Ron and Harry exchanged a knowing look, and Harry knew they were both thinking back to France. They'd encountered a very powerful magical locking spell on the door between themselves and Hermione. It took several tries, but they'd opened it together. Harry knew that as a member of the Order, Professor Jones must know all about their rescue of Lupin and Hermione and the Tree of Blood, and she was probably counting on them to lead the way for the rest of the class.

"All right, you're on your own. Feel free to refer to your texts, although the best spell you can use cannot be found there." She closed the door behind her and it glowed red for a moment before returning to normal.

Harry looked around and found his classmates giving each other expectant looks. Ron looked at Harry with confidence, and he grabbed Harry's shoulder and Hermione's hand and pulled them aside. Ron whispered something to Hermione, and Harry knew he was explaining to her what they were about to do.

With two of them, it had taken several tries to break the spell. With Hermione, Harry wagered they'd get it on the first or second try.

Ron stepped forward, leading Harry and Hermione through their classmates, toward the door. They brought up their wands and looked at each other, coming to a silent consensus of when they would start.

Their wands flew upward in concert, and Harry drew in a breath as he prepared to bring his wand back down toward the door.

" _Finite Incantatem!_ " they shouted together, and the door shuddered a bit, glowing green for a moment before the red blared at them again, telling them the spell had not been broken. Hermione braced herself, dropping her head for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"Again," she whispered, and Harry nodded at her.

" _Finite Incantatem!_ " they shouted again, and the door shook violently as it turned entirely green for a moment before stilling.

Ron jumped forward and grasped the door handle, turning it and pulling it inward. The three of them went through to the cheers of their classmates, finding Professor Jones on the other side, smiling at them.

"How did I know it would be you lot to make it through first?" She recast the _Colloportus_ spell, and Harry could feel the power emanating from her as she did.

"That was difficult," Harry told her. "Your spell was much stronger than the one we broke in France."

"And yet, the three of you were effective on your second try. It's a testament to your skill and the connection between you. We're lucky to have each of you on our side."

"Thanks," Harry said, grinning at his friends.

"Well, I reckon they'll have the idea now that we've done it," Ron said, pointing his thumb back toward their classmates behind the door.

"I still think I'll be here for awhile. I might even have to let some of them out in an hour or so. You're underestimating what you've just accomplished. I expect they're already trying to repeat what you've done, and I haven't even seen the door shake yet."

"Professor," Hermione began thoughtfully. "Theoretically, can you break any spell with _Finite Incantatem_ , assuming you can give it enough power?"

"I believe so. Are you thinking of something in particular?"

"I'm not sure yet. I need some time to think."

"Miss Granger, if you think you've seen something, you should tell us right away," their professor urged, and Hermione's brow furrowed.

"I need to check some things. I promise, I'll tell you all as soon as I'm sure. I need something from my room, first." She pulled Ron away for a moment, whispering something into his ear before she scurried away from them.

"If the three of you come up with something, don't keep it a secret, all right? I know you think you need to do this without us, Harry, but there's surely something the Order can do to help you."

"As soon as we know something, we'll come to you. I promise," Harry told her.

"All right," she said, still with a bit of suspicion on her face. "Now, off with the two of you. I need to concentrate on this spell."

Harry and Ron turned to leave her. As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry wanted to know what Hermione had told him.

"What was it?" he asked, and Ron looked around a bit before he answered.

"She thinks she's figured it out. All of it," he said, giving Harry a significant look. "She remembered something Dumbledore told you about the attack on you and your parents, and she thinks she knows what his weakness is. Must have something to do with our Defense class today, but I'm blown if I know what she's on about."

"Do you think she thinks we should all kill him at once? He'd never let us all get close enough. I don't want any of you to have to do that, anyway. If someone has to kill him, it should be me."

"But what if you can't do it on your own, Harry? You might need us to help you."

"She must be thinking of something else, though. The lesson on shared spells was about simple spells. The Killing curse isn't simple. Hermione couldn't be thinking of that."

"Well, whatever she's thinking of, she'll be ready to tell us in an hour or so. She asked me to find Ginny and bring her and you with me to see her in an hour. Ginny'll have to skive off Transfiguration, but I'm sure if we explain it to McGonagall, she'll understand. Now all we have to do is find her."

"I'll do it," Harry offered, quickly. "You go ahead to lunch. We'll meet you there. We can eat and get some things to take to Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry. I'm starving," Ron said, and he clapped Harry on the shoulder before they parted ways.

Harry headed for Gryffindor tower, wondering if Ginny was still warming his bed.


	20. The Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

Ron carried a plate full of food for Hermione as Ginny walked beside him back to Gryffindor tower. Harry was at her other side, holding her hand and occasionally squeezing it, sending little waves of awareness of him through her.

Ginny tried to think about what Harry had told her of their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but every time she began to guess what Hermione might have seen, she found herself pleasantly distracted by the way Harry's arm brushed against her as they walked.

"D'you think she's ready, or does she need more time?" Ron asked them.

"It's been nearly an hour. If I know Hermione, she was ready in half that and now she's waiting impatiently in her room for us to show up."

"Well, I hope she's hungry. Dobby set aside quite a bit for her." Ron lifted the plate for emphasis, nearly spilling the four halves of sandwiches, a large pickle, a small pile of Waldorf salad, and a cinnamon roll the house elf had added almost as an afterthought.

"I'm sure you can help her dispose of it," Ginny said, laughing as she thought of the way Ron usually picked food off of Hermione's plate as they sat next to each other in the Great Hall at mealtime. "I don't think Hermione's cleaned her own plate since she started dating you."

"She puts too much food on her plate on purpose," Harry said, voicing a suspicion Ginny also had. "She likes it when you take stuff from her. Usually gets her a kiss on the cheek."

"You're kidding," Ron said, incredulously. "She does it on purpose? I thought she just had a habit of taking more food than she was hungry for."

"Think back, Ron. Did she ever do that before last year?" Harry asked, sniggering a little.

"Of course she didn't," Ginny said, answering before Ron could.

Ginny stole a look at her brother and she realized he didn't know what to make of this, the poor daft boy. He looked as though he wasn't sure if he should be upset that Hermione was manipulating him, or delighted that she would go to so much trouble just for a simple kiss on the cheek.

They went through the portrait hole and up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. They greeted Neville, who was lying on his bed reading _Exotic Magical Flora and How To Stop Them From Killing You_ , and he spared them a wave before he settled back into his book.

The three of them got onto Harry's bed, pulling the bedcovers closed and they grasped at each other before they were steady on their feet in the corridor outside Harry's room.

"I'm telling you, there has to be a better way in here. I nearly fall on my backside every time," Ron complained as they made their way to Hermione's room.

Ginny knocked and the door opened slowly. As they entered, Ginny realized Hermione had opened it magically for them. She was sitting on her bed surrounded by books, the Wizard's Index open across her lap and weighing her down.

"I'm nearly finished," Hermione said, waving her wand over the book in her lap. Its pages shuffled, creating a breeze that blew Hermione's hair away from her face. A bright orange light emanated from the pages of the book before it stopped at a page nearly at the end.

Ginny walked to Hermione's side and looked over her friend's shoulder as words began to appear on the page. The handwriting was Hermione's careful, round script, and a long passage appeared. Ginny scanned it, discovering it was about ancient protection magic. There was an attribution at the bottom of the page to a book with a title in another language, and Ginny couldn't place what language it was.

"Hermione, what's that?" Ginny said, pointing to the line of text she couldn't read.

"It's Aramaic," Hermione said. "Madam Pince taught me the spell to help me translate it. I've been concentrating on this book and one other since we returned to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall got me a pass for the Restricted Section as soon as I explained to her what I was trying to do."

"So, this protection spell, is it what Harry will use to protect himself in the final battle?" Ginny asked, making a guess based on what she'd read.

"No," Hermione answered. "If you'd had a chance to read it entirely, you would discover there is a cost for a protection spell of this type. I've been trying to find one to protect Harry and I've come up with nothing that wouldn't exact too high a price."

"We may not have too much choice, Hermione. If it's the only way for me to get close enough to finish Voldemort, I might just have to accept whatever the consequences are."

"You're missing the point, Harry, but I understand why. I didn't see it until this afternoon, myself. I've been concentrating on finding a way to protect you. What I realized today was that I was looking in the right place, but for the wrong reason."

"Hermione, love, are you going to start making sense soon? I still haven't got a clue what you're supposed to be showing us," Ron said impatiently.

"Your mother, Harry, knew what the cost would be for using the spell she chose to protect you. I'm not sure if I've found the exact protection charm she used, but I know I've found something similar. The reason she waited until Voldemort had already gotten through the Fidelius Charm to use it was that she knew what would happen when she did. The spell took everything from her to create a temporary, impenetrable shell of protection around you, Harry." 

Hermione was quiet for a moment, and Ginny realized it was because she'd just told Harry that his mother had made the choice to die protecting him.

"That scream of hers, the one I've heard ever since third year, that wasn't Voldemort killing her," Harry said, his jaw setting and tears forming in his eyes. "It was her life being taken from her as she cast that spell to protect me." He turned away from them, and Ginny started to go to him before Ron held her back.

"Harry, it's important you not see things that way," Hermione said, and Harry turned to look at her with a pained, incredulous look on his face.

"How _should_ I see it, Hermione? Should I be glad that my mother killed herself to save me?"

"If she hadn't, neither of you would be here," Ginny said quietly. She struggled out of Ron's grasp and went to Harry, touching him lightly on the arm and gasping as he pulled it away.

Ron pushed past Ginny, and he grabbed his friend by the shoulders with both hands. It was the first time Ginny had ever seen him use his size against someone else, and she was breathless as she waited to see what they would do.

"Listen here, mate. Your mum didn't kill herself. Voldemort killed them both. Your father died at that bastard's hands trying to buy your mum time to do the spell, but she found a way to deny him the pleasure of killing her as well. She did the only thing she could do, and finding that way to keep you alive will be what brings him down. She wouldn't have had to do the spell if Voldemort hadn't found them. They're dead because of Voldemort and Wormtail, and it's a disservice to your mum to see things any other way."

There wasn't a sound in the room as Harry and Ron stared at each other, Ron's shoulders and chest heaving with silent, deep breaths. Harry's eyes challenged Ron for several moments before his eyes finally shut and his head slumped forward. Ron released one of Harry's shoulders but supported his friend as he swayed forward by the other.

Ginny went to him and Ron moved out of the way for her. She pulled him into a gentle embrace, and she felt one of Harry's tears fall onto her cheek. She reached up to wipe them away, and his eyes opened as he nuzzled her hand.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away," he whispered to her, and she shushed him. "Hermione," he began, raising his head. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's all right," Hermione whispered, nervously shifting her wand from hand to hand before she realized what she was doing and stopped.

"No, it's not," he told her. "How long have you known?"

"I've suspected what the nature of the spell was for awhile. I still don't know if I've found the exact charm your mother used, but I found these three about a week ago and added them to the Index."

"Thank you for waiting to tell me until I had to know," Harry said, and Ginny wasn't sure he meant it until she looked into his eyes.

"I wanted to tell you, Harry, but I knew how you would react. I honestly don't know if I ever would have told you if it hadn't been necessary."

"So," Harry said, clearing his throat. "There must be a reason you've told me now."

"Well, I was originally looking for a charm we could use to protect you. I tried to find one that didn't exact so dire a price, but with ancient magic like this, there's always an equal sacrifice that has to be made in exchange for the power it gives you.

"I thought at first that one of us would have to perform the spell for you. If it was the only way, Harry, I would have done it."

Ginny jerked her head around to Hermione, who was sitting amongst a mountain of books, just the way Ginny usually pictured her in her mind's eye. To think of their Hermione, the one who kept Ron in line, the one who worried about school even in the face of mortal danger, sacrificing herself for Harry made Ginny cry out in protest. "No, Hermione. I love him. It should be me."

Ron, his face pale at the thought of Hermione or his sister sacrificing themselves for Harry, paced down the side of Hermione's room, shaking with barely restrained energy.

"If there's a sacrifice to be made, then I'll be the one to do it," Ron said, his voice hard and set. "I was willing to do it six years ago on the chess board, and I still am."

"Absolutely not, all of you. I don't care what happens, but if one of you chooses to die to protect me, I don't know how I could possibly go on."

"I know. I said that's what I thought at first," Hermione said, stepping in to clarify what she'd meant. "I thought so much about how we would fulfill the sacrifice that I didn't think of other possibilities. I worried about us so much that I forgot to think about Voldemort."

"What about him?" Ron asked.

"Well, that spell, the _Avada Kedavra_ he tried to kill you with, Harry...it rebounded from you and hit Voldemort, didn't it?" Hermione asked.

"According to Dumbledore, yeah," Harry agreed, sitting in the chair next to Hermione's desk.

"But it didn't kill him. Why?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore told me about that," Harry broke in. "After I told him about the spell Wormtail performed in the graveyard to bring him back, Dumbledore told me that Voldemort had just been a shadow until then. He must have had some Dark Magic around him to prevent him from dying completely when he attacked me and my parents. It left him barely alive, without a body and almost helpless."

"Exactly," Hermione said, as if it should all be obvious to them. "So, there's now a spell keeping him alive, the one you saw Wormtail perform. Without it..." she trailed off.

"Do you think he would go back to the way he was?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry, I don't," Hermione told him. "I think he would die."

"How can we be sure? That's a pretty big gamble," Ron said.

"The Index. I've fed it so much information, everything we've learned here at school, hundreds of pages about Dark Magic, ancient magic. I've added the things you told us too, Harry, because the Index is quite good at making connections. When Voldemort surrendered his fate to that spell to restore his body, when he took your blood, his father's bone, and Wormtail's hand, it became the only thing keeping him alive. If we end that spell, it becomes the end of him."

"How do we break that spell, though?" Ron asked, and Ginny saw the moment he realized it. Harry gave voice to it before Ron could.

" _Finite Incantatem_ ," Harry whispered. "Just like Defense today. If we feed enough power into it, it can break even the strongest spell."

"Right," Ron intoned, kneeling next to the bed to look into Hermione's eyes. "You saw it right away, didn't you?"

"It was only because I've been looking for the connection. Professor Jones' lesson and the Index completed it for me."

"We still have to make it to Voldemort without getting ourselves killed," Harry said.

"That's never been the problem, Harry. There are a hundred ways we can get to him. We could even use the cloak, but getting the four of us under it would be difficult." Hermione looked at them, then brought her wand up and pointed it at the Index. " _Ostendo_ ," she whispered, and a shock of orange light connected her to the book on her lap. Her voice, louder than it would normally be, came from her. "Stealth spells," she commanded it, and it responded immediately.

Pages shuffled on the Index again, ending on a page near the middle. Ginny read it over Hermione's shoulder, realizing there were several spells there she knew, but also a few she'd never seen before.

"So, we sneak in, and hope for the best?" Ginny asked, realizing there had to be more to it than that.

"I have some ideas, Harry," Ron volunteered, and Ginny could see him mentally turning them all into chess pieces. "Unless you'd rather talk it over with Dumbledore and the Aurors," he added.

"This is our battle, Ron. It was Dumbledore's job to get us here. It's our job to finish it," Harry told him. "There's just one thing that bothers me."

"What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked him, and he stood up and looked out into the blackness of the blank window.

"The prophecy. The power the Dark Lord knows not. What is it? Dumbledore told me I'd recognize it when we found it, but I still haven't got a clue."

"I know what it is," Ginny said, her voice small as she faced away from all of them, studying the wooden panels of the wall. It was easiest for her to see, as she'd spent so long watching the three of them from afar. "What does Harry have that Voldemort doesn't?"

Ginny looked at Ron and Hermione and saw both of them look at each other, and then to Harry.

"Us," Ron smiled, standing up and reaching out to take Hermione's hand and help her off the bed. He came to Harry, leading Hermione with him, and Ginny joined the three of them to look out the window.

The view blurred and resolved itself into a view of a single tree in the middle of a field near the Quidditch pitch. Ginny recognized it right away. The three of them had sat there often in their first few years at school, inviting Ginny to join them from time to time starting in her fourth year.

"Whenever I think of the two of you, and now you too, Ginny, I think of us sitting under that tree," Hermione said, and Ron slipped his arm around her waist. She leaned into him, and Harry hugged them both before he let them go to pull Ginny into his arms.

"I have you," Harry said.

"You have our loyalty, our love. Everything we are," Hermione said, simply.

"Voldemort has the fear of his followers, their desire for power. It's nothing compared to what we have together," Ginny whispered, looking unblinkingly on Hermione's vision of their tree.

* * *

The four of them threw themselves into practicing casting spells together, sharing their power in pairs at first, moving on to three and then four of them as they grew more accustomed to working together.

Harry even used the D.A. meetings as practice sessions, asking the other members to throw spells at them. Ginny observed several of their classmates becoming proficient together. Dean and Seamus could cast a shared _Expelliarmus_ that could disarm a small crowd of people after they'd practiced it for a few weeks. Neville, Parvati, and Lavender, a strange threesome at first glance, almost had a sixth sense of when to cast _Protego_. The final product was the strongest shield Ginny had ever seen; a nearly opaque shell that they could extend to cover several additional people, and it could move with them as they walked.

There were other benefits to learning how to cast spells together. Each member of the spell casting groups that seemed to form naturally around their friendships found they had a heightened awareness of their fellow group members. Peeves had been about to drop a large water balloon on Dean's head when Seamus, who'd been facing the other direction, suddenly reached out and pushed Dean out of the way at the last moment. Parvati protected Neville from the subject of one of Hagrid's lessons with a smaller version of their protection shield, and later she'd told him that she hadn't even realized she'd done it until after it was cast.

During Quidditch matches, Gryffindor had become utterly unstoppable. Between Ron's formations and the interconnectedness of Ron, Ginny, and Harry, it was difficult for the other house teams to even score on them. If Ginny or Harry saw a Chaser coming in with the Quaffle, Ron found he had a much better feeling of which hoop he needed to defend. If Ginny or Ron saw the Snitch, Harry found himself turning his head to focus directly on it. They beat Hufflepuff in the first match of the year 280-20. Slytherin had fallen in under twenty minutes, 170-10.

Professor Jones began to attend D.A. meetings to see how they were coming along, and she was more and more astounded with every visit.

"You seventh and sixth years are doing things I thought only highly trained groups of Hit Wizards, Unspeakables, or Aurors were capable of," she'd told them. "When I introduced this lesson, I had no idea how far you would be able to take it."

The oldest students of the D.A., those who would likely become the real army Harry would lead into the final conflict with Voldemort, beamed in pride at their professor's praise whenever she offered it, and they drank in every suggestion she made.

The quartet at the heart of the preparations developed several spells they grew proficient in casting together. They could cast nearly any simple spell in perfect concert with each other, and Hermione had devised a series of hand signals to communicate her intention to cast one spell or another to the other three.

In addition to those spells, they had discovered other skills they could perform in pairs. Ron and Hermione, drawing on the fire between them, could cast offensive attack spells that had such power it made the hair on Ginny's arms stand on end. Ginny and Harry together could send a bolt at spells about to connect with one of their friends that would absorb the incoming spell, dissolving it to nothingness. Ginny and Hermione could combine to send a spell at another person to heighten their awareness and reflexes. Ron and Ginny could create shadowy figures behind their opponents, drawing their attention and confusing them long enough to gain the upper hand in their practice skirmishes.

* * *

Ginny awoke in the middle of the night, several months after they'd begun their preparations, to find Harry missing. She sat up, wondering how he could possibly have slipped away without her awakening.

When he still hadn't returned after an hour, she really began to worry. She slipped out of bed and into Harry's robe and paced for a bit before deciding she had to do something.

She was at Hermione's door before she could remember deciding to go there, knocking and banging at the door until it opened. She wasn't really surprised that it was her brother who was behind it, blinking at the brighter light from the candles in the corridor.

"Ginny, what is it?" he asked sleepily, crying out in protest as she pushed him aside.

"He's gone. Harry. I don't know where he is," Ginny said, and Hermione sat up, immediately alert.

"He does this sometimes, Ginny. He used to go for walks around the castle all the time," Ron told her, soothingly. "Was his Invisibility Cloak missing?"

"I didn't look. I suppose I could—"

She was interrupted by a rap at the door, and she opened it quickly, relieved to find Harry waiting for her there.

"I thought you'd be here. I'm sorry. Waking to find me gone must have frightened you."

"Harry, why did you—"

Harry interrupted Ginny with a single raised hand.

"It's time. I woke a few hours ago and I just knew. Get your wands and get ready to go." He handed a slip of parchment to Hermione, and then another to Ron. "If the two of you could wake up the people on those lists and tell them to meet us at Dumbledore's office, we can leave soon."

They nodded and left, and Ginny found herself alone with Harry. She wondered for a moment if he was about to ask her to stay behind, and she readied herself for the fight that would ensue.

"Ginny, there's something I need to tell you before we go. Something I need you to know just in case..."

She took him in, looking at the person she'd come to know better than she'd ever known anyone.

"You'll have plenty of time to tell me once we get back, Harry." She went to him and kissed him, feeling his arms tighten around her before she pushed away. "Now go. I'll see you at Dumbledore's office."

He turned and left, and Ginny took a long, steadying breath. She returned to Harry's room to change back into the clothes she'd worn the day before and retrieve her wand, and she began her grim walk towards Dumbledore's office. 

She knew, as she walked through the halls of the school she knew so well, she wouldn't let anything happen to Harry, even if she did have to sacrifice herself in the process.


	21. The Beginning of the End

Harry made one last pass through Dumbledore's office, telling each person there that it was still their choice to go or stay behind. He was gratified to discover that all of them seemed to be intent on helping him in whatever way they could. Harry was on his way over to Hermione when he caught sight of Blaise Zabini standing in a corner, talking to Padma Patil.

"It was the right choice, Harry. Padma trusts him. I trust him. I know he's the only Slytherin here, but—"

"I know, Hermione. He's been dating Padma since the beginning of term. He hasn't broken the prefect's pledge, or he'd be covered in purple and orange boils. He seems to detest Draco even more than I do, and I do believe he wants Voldemort gone."

As though he knew they were talking about him, Blaise chose that moment to look in their direction and nod his head to Harry. Harry returned it and Blaise turned back to Padma, who didn't even seem to notice the exchange.

Harry tried to resist counting the number of people gathered in Dumbledore's office. Of course, all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were there. In addition, he'd chosen every student at Hogwarts they could trust who had the skill to protect themselves. Despite that, he still feared their numbers were too small. He didn't know how many Death Eaters Voldemort had left or how many people it would take to secure a path to get the four of them through to the Dark Wizard himself.

The Ministry, at Dumbledore's request, had sent the Unspeakables who had traced Voldemort's location, a group of their most skillful Aurors, and several Hit Wizards. Dumbledore had hand-selected most of them with the help of members of the Order. Only one of the Aurors who'd accompanied Hermione to France last year had made the list, Reilly Carroll. Hermione had grown quite close to the former Gryffindor during her time at the cabin, and he'd passed his Veritaserum interrogation with flying colors. 

Ron was sitting behind Dumbledore's desk, surrounded by Lupin, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and two Unspeakables. They were looking at diagrams of the series of caves the Unspeakables had tracked Voldemort to and discussing strategy. Harry looked around the room to verify that he had spoken to everyone, and then joined them to see what they'd come up with. Mad-Eye moved back to let Harry through and he got his first glimpse of his best mate's handiwork.

The parchments were charmed and Harry assumed Lupin had created them, as they looked a great deal like the Marauder's Map. Harry saw a large amount of people near the front of the caves breaking into smaller groups, gaining tags to identify the individual people. It was clearly Ron's proposed plan of attack, and Harry watched as their fellow students along with some of the Aurors moved into position. He scanned the entire parchment looking for the group containing himself, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, but couldn't find it.

"Where are we, Ron?" he asked, and Kingsley twitched his wand to freeze the movement on the parchment.

"There you are, Harry, with Lupin," Ron said, as he pointed to one blot of ink in the far corner. "I've got Ginny with Kingsley, coming in from this direction," and he stabbed his index finger at Ginny's name. "Hermione's with Mad-Eye, coming in from this side passage. I'm here, in the front, with Tonks. I'll stay with the largest group of your...well," Ron paused, searching for the right word, "...army, I suppose I should call it, until I get word that the three of you are on the move. Then Tonks and I will set off."

"Why are we separated?" Harry asked, feeling a little uneasy at how far Ginny was away from him on the map.

Kingsley set the map in motion again with a twitch of his wand.

"We're keeping the bulk of our fighters together, hoping to draw all the attention. There are only three side passages, and I've sent each of you down one. Your groups are smaller, just two of you, because I'm hoping to get you all in undetected. You'll be using those stealth spells Hermione found as well. We'll all meet here," he said, dropping his hand onto a larger area inside the mountain where all four paths connected.

"Ron, if your plan works and your group draws all the Death Eater attention, how will you break through?"

"I'd like to borrow your Invisibility Cloak, if I could. I need to be there at first, to help direct the battle. Once you've all had time to make it to the rendezvous point, I'll make my way there as well. My path to it is the shortest, so it won't take me long to catch up."

"We've already tried to talk him out of it, Harry," Lupin told him. "He's right, though. You've prepared these people as well as anyone could, but they need someone to lead them. Ron has shown a remarkable talent for doing exactly that."

"When we're done here tonight, Ron, we have to speak about Auror training," Kingsley added. "I can't speak for our head of department, but when I tell him what you've shown me here tonight, I'm not sure it matters what your N.E.W.T. results are. If you're interested, that is."

Harry watched his friend beam with pride for a split second before he covered it up, mumbling something about only caring about everyone getting out alive.

"How do we find Voldemort from there?" Harry asked.

"We don't. He'll be looking for you, Harry," Ron said, a grim look on his face.

"But he won't find me," Harry said, feeling his confidence grow as he remembered he wouldn't be alone. "He'll find us."

"Ron, there are a few more people here you should know about," Hermione said, coming to Ron with a hesitant smile on her face.

The twins appeared behind Hermione, silly grins on each of their faces.

"Heard you could use a bit of help, little brother," Fred began.

"So, of course, we forced Mum and Dad to bring us along. We brought this blighter with us," George finished, and Bill came out from behind the twins.

"Bill!" Ron exclaimed, and he stood to catch all three of his brothers in a hug.

"Charlie would have come as well, if he wasn't so bloody far away," Fred began, and his twin picked up where he'd left off.

"Talked to him via owl," George said, nodding to Fred.

"He's still trying to get an international Portkey," Fred offered.

"But he doesn't have much hope," George said, finally, and Harry began to remember how dizzying talking with the twins could be, the way they seemed to finish each other's sentences.

"Ron, there's one more thing," Bill said, pulling back and giving Fred and George a warning look before he turned back to Ron. "He's willing to leave if you won't have him, but he wanted to offer. I began to owl him again over this past summer, and I think it's time we forgave him."

"The great, towering git," Fred said, putting up his hands in a silent apology to his older brother when Bill glared at him.

"Hermione, could you—?" Bill asked.

Hermione nodded and stepped outside Dumbledore's office, coming back a moment later with Percy. Hermione came back inside the room but Percy hovered in the doorway, an uncertain look on his face.

Ron's lips tightened. "What's _he_ doing here?" he hissed.

"Listen, Ron. He wants to help. We've shut him out for nearly two years. It's time we took him back," Bill said, insistently.

"I'll use him," Ron spat, loudly enough for Percy to hear. Harry watched Hermione stop Percy from coming any closer as she recognized the look of disgust on Ron's face. "He's just another chess piece to move around. Just don't assume I'm protecting him. He's on his own."

Harry saw a resigned look pass over Bill's features, but the twins seemed to be in silent agreement with Ron. Ron turned to the map, taking an enchanted quill from the inkpot on Dumbledore's desk and added four additional people to it.

* * *

The final bit of cooperation they received from the Ministry came in the form of a score of Portkeys that would take them to the mouth of the caves. Bill made a final appeal to Dumbledore to get an extra Portkey approved for Charlie in Romania, but Dumbledore didn't want to involve the Department of International Magical Cooperation any more than was necessary. There was no Order member to rely on in that department and it was important to keep the operation as secret as possible.

The students gathered in groups, hugging each other and looking nervous. Harry felt he should say something before they left, but he didn't have a clue what it should be.

He cleared his throat and tried to quiet everyone down to no avail. Dumbledore saw what he was trying to do, and just a few words from their Headmaster got the job done.

Harry's heart was pounding as he found every eye in the room on him. He still didn't know what he was going to say, but he jumped right in and started with the first thing on his mind.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me that so many of you are willing to risk your own safety to help us tonight. Each one of you in this room is a vital part of what we have to do. Listen to each other, protect each other, and I promise you, we will succeed. Thank you all," he said, trying to catch the eye of each person in the room, if only for a second.

The room was quiet for a moment as Harry really looked at several people in the crowd, surprised for a moment how much they'd grown up over their six and a half years at school. He could still see the bumbling, forgetful, uncertain boy Neville had been, the vain, self-centered girl Lavender had been. When had they all changed so much?

Kingsley began to gather people together near the Portkeys. He consulted Ron and Lupin's parchment many times, trying to keep people who were accustomed to working together in the same group.

"I'll need to take the first Portkey, Harry, so I can start directing everyone's movements," Ron said, and then shook his head. "Can you believe this? All that time I've played Wizard's Chess, I never thought anyone would ask me to do something like this."

"You were born to do this, Ron. We couldn't do any of this without you," Harry told him, feeling terribly emotional at the thought of Ron entering the fray before he did himself. "Take care of yourself, all right?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "You too. I'll see you at the rendezvous."

They stood for a moment, staring at each other, and Harry finally pulled Ron into a hug. Ron clapped Harry on the back and then they pushed away.

"Right," Harry said. "Get out of here. If we can finish this quickly, maybe we'll have some time for Exploding Snap before bed."

Ron turned and strode toward the Portkey he would share with Kingsley and Tonks. They would only precede the main group by a few minutes, but Harry's stomach ached at the thought of his best mate being in that kind of danger alone.

Dumbledore whispered something to Kingsley as they gathered around the stone set aside for them. Kingsley nodded, and Dumbledore cast the _Portus_ spell to create the Portkey. They counted to three, grabbed it, and were gone.

Group by group, Dumbledore repeated the process, turning items from his office into Portkeys for everyone else to use. Hermione used one of the earliest Portkeys, and Harry finally got Ginny to leave in the fourth to last party. He'd almost taken that Portkey himself until Dumbledore pulled him aside.

"We will take the final Portkey, Harry. I have a something to give you," Dumbledore told him, and Harry had to watch as Ginny disappeared from the office with Lupin and several Ravenclaws.

When they were the last two people left, Dumbledore retrieved a long, flat box from a drawer along his wall.

"This, Harry, is a second wand for you. As you discovered during your encounter with Voldemort in your fourth year, you may not want to duel with him using your own wand, as it will introduce the _Priori Incantatem_ effect. I would like you to take this wand with you. Use it as you see fit."

"Whose wand is it, Professor?"

"It was my first wand," Dumbledore told him. "Lovely little thing, but I did find I had more of an affinity with the wand I have now. You should have no trouble using it. It's Coromandel, with a Runespoor Fang core. I used it against another Dark Wizard by the name of Grindelwald, and it did quite well."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, awed to hold such an instrument in his own hands. As he grasped it, it felt the same as Godric Gryffindor's sword had felt in his hands, heavy and almost trembling with barely restrained power.

"Now, we should go." Dumbledore waved his wand over an old quill and whispered, " _Portus_." It glowed blue for a moment and shuddered, then returned to normal. "On three, I should think, Harry."

"One, two..."

Harry felt vaguely ill as he felt the pull at his middle, images whirling past him. He remembered how much more intense the sensation was with an international Portkey from his trip to France, but the whirling seemed to go on forever before it finally ceased.

Harry looked around and saw several of the people surrounding him still looked a bit ill from their own trip. Lupin was circulating through, performing some sort of anti-nausea spell that seemed to put those who looked the greenest more at ease.

He scanned the crowd for his friends, finding Ron and Hermione first. They looked like they were arguing. There was a pinkness to Hermione's cheeks and she was gesturing wildly at him. It looked like every time she tried to speak, Ron was cutting her off. Harry hoped Ron hadn't chosen this moment to begin the worst timed row in all of recorded history when Hermione suddenly threw her arms around Ron's neck, sending him careening backward three paces before he righted them both.

Hermione give Ron a quick kiss before he took her arms and pulled her away. Ron gave her a long look before he let her go and turned away, jogging to catch up to Kingsley. Hermione watched him, and then turned to help gather her fellow students together as Ron had asked her to do before they left Dumbledore's office.

Noises came to the surface, sounding as though they were coming from just beyond the large cavern just inside the mouth of the caves. Ron began to organize the bulk of the party, and Harry finally found Ginny among the group. She stopped, as if she felt Harry's eyes on her, and turned to him. She put her hand over her heart and then pointed at him as Kingsley bent to whisper something into her ear. She nodded, and then took out her wand and cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself. Kingsley did the same, and Harry could just barely make out the outline of the two of them as they moved toward the mouth of the cave.

Hermione and Mad-Eye followed suit, nearly disappearing into their surroundings as the Disillusionment Charm took hold.

"Your turn, Harry. Time to disappear," Lupin's voice said, from just behind Harry.

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at himself, whispering, " _Occulto_ ," as he did. The uncomfortable flood of cold started at the top of his head and ran through his body, and he saw Lupin had done the same next to him. Harry started for the cave just as a pack of at least ten Death Eaters came out of it, wands held aloft and hoods covering their faces.

"Keep moving, Harry," Lupin whispered to him, as Harry slowed down and considered stepping into the battle. "Look around yourself, they're doing fine. You have to get through the tunnels."

Harry did look around and was greatly impressed at the display of magical skill by his fellow students, the Aurors, and the Unspeakables. Dean and Seamus had disarmed the first three Death Eaters out of the cavern and were working on the rest. Padma and Blaise stunned all three of the disarmed Death Eaters while Harry was watching, and Parvati, with Neville and Lavender's help, threw a protection shell over her twin when another Death Eater attempted to hit her with a spell from behind.

Harry finally forced himself to look away and he and Lupin slipped into the cave, dodging out of the path of more of Voldemort's supporters, none of whom noticed any of the Disillusioned witches or wizards who were making their way deeper into the caves.

They walked slowly at first, Lupin quietly urging Harry to let his eyes adjust to the dark so they wouldn't have to use light from their wands to make their way. He stumbled over an outcropping of rock, catching himself by the palms of his hands as he went down. Lupin helped him up, although it was difficult to see his camouflaged hand in the darkness.

They finally reached the inner cavern that Ron had called the rendezvous point, and found that Hermione had already arrived.

"All right, Mad-Eye. Harry's here. You can go back to the battle now," Hermione hissed. "You too, Professor Lupin. We'll be fine here."

"Hermione, would you please, for the last time, call me Remus?" Lupin's face resolved into a gentle smile as he reappeared, and he brushed her shoulder with the palm of his hand. "Good luck, Harry, Hermione."

"Good luck to you too, Pr—Remus," Hermione replied, stumbling a bit on Lupin's first name.

"All right, you two. Wands ready," Mad-Eye told them with a wink, and he disappeared into the blackness with Lupin.

Harry and Hermione stood in an uncomfortable silence, not wanting to draw attention before the four of them were reunited. Hermione bounced a little against the solid rock wall, and he knew she was as worried for Ron as Harry was for Ginny.

"They're fine, Hermione. They have to be," Harry told her, bending closer to whisper to her.

They continued their long wait. Harry agonized over the many horrible things he could imagine had happened to Ron or to Ginny until Ron appeared from under the Invisibility Cloak, followed by Tonks. 

"Ron!" Hermione blurted out, covering her mouth as soon as she did.

The four of them looked around, waiting to see if Hermione's inadvertent yell had drawn any attention. Harry patted Hermione's shoulder, knowing she was internally berating herself for endangering them all because of her inability to repress her great relief at seeing Ron still in one piece.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron whispered. "She should have been here by now. Your path was much longer than hers, Harry." Anxiety was evident in Ron's voice, even as quietly as he was speaking.

"We should see what's keeping her," Harry said.

"No, you should stay here," Tonks whispered back. "I'll send someone up her path to see what's going on. Fight with just the three of you if you have to, but you shouldn't endanger your mission as long as you're still on track." She turned and ran back toward the main battle, and Harry tried to convince himself she was right.

Ron paced a few steps, stopping when Hermione held a finger to her lips to remind him to keep it down.

"Not yet, Ron. We're still waiting here for Ginny," Hermione hissed at him. "We still need to stay quiet."

"No, we bloody don't. What we need to do is go after Ginny," Harry said, feeling better the moment the words left his lips.

"Right," Ron added. "What are we waiting for?"

"We are waiting to hear from the person Tonks sends after her, that's what we're waiting for," Hermione corrected. She looked into each of their eyes, defiant at first, but softening after a moment. "Oh, bloody hell. Let's go find her. I don't know if we can do it without her anyway," Hermione said, apparently needing to justify the decision to put their chances to destroy Voldemort in jeopardy.

"She's that way," Ron said, pointing to the tunnel Ginny was supposed to emerge from long ago.

Harry led the way, stumbling as he failed to be careful over the uneven surface under his feet. They rounded a corner, ducking under an outcropping of rock that was barely visible to them in the darkness.

The scene before him in the tunnel nearly stopped Harry's heart. Ginny was lying on the ground, her Disillusionment spell gone, just as motionless as she'd been all those years ago when Harry'd found her deep within the Chamber of Secrets. There was light coming from behind a large stalactite in the center of the tunnel, and Harry was temporarily blinded as the wand creating the _Lumos_ spell appeared and its wielder came toward them.

"I knew you'd come for her, Potter, but I didn't think you'd bring the rest of the gang with you. What _are_ you and Dumbledore planning?" said a voice coming to them from beyond the blinding light of the spell.

"I know that voice," Hermione said, not bothering to be quiet. "Reilly. It can't be."

Reilly Carroll lowered his wand, pointing the light from its tip toward the floor, and Harry's eyes adjusted enough to give him some sight back. He could see Kingsley in the far corner, bleeding from a wound on the back of his head. Reilly, the recently reinstated Auror, walked toward them, stepping over Ginny's unconscious form as though she was nothing more than another bump of rock under their feet.

"You were cleared. They interrogated you under Veritaserum." Hermione gasped.

"I used powers given to me by the Dark Lord to block my mind from their pitiful interrogation. They were all too easy to fool," Reilly said, cackling a little.

"Dumbledore said—" Hermione began.

"Dumbledore is an old fool," Carroll spat, interrupting her. "All the time I was at Hogwarts, I believed in him. He encouraged me to join the Auror training program. I worked and slaved, fighting my way up through the program. I could barely manage to crawl into bed every night. When I finally graduated and began to work for the Ministry, they sent me on missions right away. Not enough Aurors left, you know. Had to press us into action right away. Do you have any idea what's happened to me? I don't have any feeling in my left arm because of a fight with a Death Eater I encountered on my very first mission. They had to completely regrow it. No one at the Ministry seemed to care. I spent years dedicating myself to them, and none of them acknowledged the danger they were sending us into. They sent us into trap after trap. I'm lucky to still be here."

"So, you repaid them by joining the other side," Harry accused.

"I encountered Bellatrix Lestrange after she escaped from Dumbledore at the Ministry two years ago. She told me what belonging to the Dark Lord could mean to me. I dismissed her offer at first and she let me go, telling me to think it over. It was only later, when I sought her out, that I accepted their terms. All I had to do was deliver you to them," Carroll said, pointing his wand at Hermione. "I got myself assigned to protect you. It was all too easy."

"Point that wand somewhere else," Ron growled, and he and Harry leveled their wands directly at Reilly Carroll's heart.

"Try it, boy. I can counter any spell you can cast at me, and I assure you, your little girlfriend will be the first to fall. Do you think I'm frightened of you? They all still trust me back there. If I take your limp, dead bodies back and cry over what Voldemort must have done to you, no one will ever know. The Dark Lord will triumph, and you, Harry Potter, will finally be just a memory."

"We were friends, Reilly," Hermione said. 

"We were never friends, you ridiculous girl. You were a means to an end."

"You can still turn your back on him. You can make it right again," Hermione insisted.

"Oh, and that fool Dumbledore will forgive me? The Dementors may not be guarding Azkaban any longer, but that doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of my life there. Now, which one of you should I start with?" Reilly waved his wand over them, as though he was choosing which one of them to kill first.

Harry waited until Reilly pointed the wand only at him and then he gave his two friends an almost imperceptible nod.

" _Secui Sectum!_ " Ron and Hermione yelled in unison, sending a bolt of red light directly at Reilly. Their opponent managed to block the spell at the last moment, and he charged at them in a blind rage. Harry watched as everything around them seemed to slow down, and Reilly opened his mouth to cast a spell. Harry brought his wand up to try to block it, but if it was the Killing Curse Reilly was about to cast, Harry knew it would do no good.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " cried a voice from behind Reilly, and the fallen Auror's wand flew out of his hand and landed at Harry's feet. Harry picked it up and pocketed it, then looked up to see Ron's form moving forward in the darkness.

" _Lumos!_ " Hermione cried from Harry's left, and the tunnel was again bathed in light.

Ron pointed his wand menacingly at Reilly's throat.

"I should kill you for what you've done," Ron said, his chest heaving. "If I was half as dirty as you, I would have done it already."

"Percy!" Hermione cried, and Harry finally looked beyond Reilly Carroll's shoulder to see Ron's brother standing there, his wand outstretched.

"Tonks found me first, and I volunteered to go after Ginny," Percy told them, pointing his own wand at Reilly's back. "I'm glad I had the chance to help you fight this scum."

" _Stupefy_!" Ron cried, and a bolt of light hit Carroll directly in the center of his chest. He crumpled to the ground, and Percy ran forward.

Harry dropped to the ground next to Ginny, relieved to find her still breathing, her skin still warm. Hermione kneeled next to him.

"Let me, Harry, will you?" Hermione said, gently moving him back a bit. "I might have a bit clearer head where she's concerned."

Harry nodded, and he watched as Hermione cast the spell to awaken Ginny.

" _Ennervate_ ," Hermione whispered, and Ginny's eyes fluttered open. 

Harry helped her sit up, supporting her with a gentle hand on her back.

"Thanks, Perce," Harry heard Ron say, and he smiled at bit as he lifted his head in time to see Ron pat his brother on the shoulder.

"It's okay, Ron," Percy said, then turned to his sister. "Ginny, are you all right?" Percy asked.

"I'm fine," she said, giving them all a shaky smile. "He ambushed us when we got about halfway down the passage. I just need a moment or two. Is Kingsley all right?"

Percy went to the Auror's side, examining his injury for a moment before he waved his wand and awakened him. When Kingsley regained consciousness a moment later, he shook his head to clear it, then got to his feet and insisted on returning to join the battle.

"If Carroll was supposed to hold us here, it was probably for Voldemort," Harry told Percy. "You and Kingsley should get out of here. He'll be here any minute."

"Be careful, all of you," Percy said, and turned to follow Kingsley toward the battle.

"You too, Percy," Ron said, and they watched Percy levitate Reilly Carroll's unconscious body as he strode away.

"Do you think the plan is blown?" Hermione asked, looking from Harry to Ron.

"No, I don't think so," Ron said, thoughtfully. "Carroll seemed surprised that we were all together. They still think you're going to face Voldemort alone, Harry."

"So, it'll still work. Get under the cloak while there's still time," Harry urged.

They didn't wait long before Harry felt a burning in his scar, starting as a prickle and progressing to an eye-watering burn. He took deep breaths, trying every trick he'd ever found to control himself in spite of the head-splitting pain Voldemort's presence caused him. The feeling subsided a bit, enough to make it tolerable, and Harry decided it was time to take things into his own hands. 

Of course, Voldemort could hide in the dark, cast a Killing Curse, and it would all be over, but that wasn't the Dark Lord's style. He'd waited too long to get a real chance to corner Harry and kill him, and Harry was wagering with his life that Voldemort would want the opportunity to savor it.

"I'm right here!" he yelled, his own ghostly voice echoing back to him off the walls of the cavern. "Come and face me like a man!"

Harry switched wands, putting his own in the outer pocket of his robes and taking out the wand Dumbledore had loaned him. He felt a surge of power as he grasped it in his hand, as though the wand was meant to be here every bit as much as Harry was himself.

"How can I face you like a man," a harsh voice that sounded more like a hiss said, "when I am a god compared to you?"

Voldemort appeared, sliding forward as though he was levitating smoothly over the rough floor of the cave. He held his wand at his side, and he smiled widely at Harry.

"You aren't a god, you're a monster," Harry told him defiantly, "and this is the last time we will face each other."

"You are correct, Harry. This is the last time you will face anyone. I'm sending you after your parents and your godfather."

Harry's temper flared violently at the mention of his parents and Sirius.

" _Cuspisecui_!" he yelled, putting all of his anger into the Cutting Curse. It was part of Ron's strategy for Harry to use the strongest offensive spells Voldemort would believe Harry had prepared himself with. They wouldn't be enough to take Voldemort down, but they wanted him to believe that was the best Harry had come up with.

Voldemort blocked the spell easily, and the flare of red that had erupted from the end of Harry's wand ricocheted harmlessly away. Voldemort laughed and it was a harsh, violent kind of sound that Harry could feel reverberating in his chest.

"Is Dumbledore still too valiant to teach his students true magic? How could you come here, unprepared to use any of the spells that hold real power? You couldn't harm the dirt under my feet with the pitiful skills that old fraud has taught you."

" _Capictus_!" Harry said, stabbing his wand at Voldemort, who put up a shield without speaking a word, with only the smallest twitch of his wand.

Voldemort laughed again, a sound filled with pure hatred and malice.

"I should have ended this already. If it did not amuse me to watch you struggle, I would have, but your time has come. Your death will show the world that none can stand against me and hope to survive!"

Voldemort dropped his shield charm and Harry readied himself. He heard the words of the Killing Curse in Voldemort's painfully loud voice, and Harry was already moving. He ducked behind the stalactite on the other side of the tunnel, and it was shattered another moment later by the same kind of red light that was part of Harry's first memory of life.

"You can't hide forever, Potter! I can make you stop moving, you know. Hit you with a spell that will force you to lie there and stare into my eyes as I kill you. Wouldn't you rather go out on your feet?" Voldemort taunted.

"Do your worst. It won't be enough," Harry told him, standing to face him again.

" _Impedimenta_!" Voldemort called, and Harry's attempt to block the spell missed. He heard his friends react from under the Invisibility Cloak as he fell, helpless, to the ground. "Now, this is the end of you, Harry Potter."


	22. The End

Ginny felt Ron and Hermione's arms battling against hers as they all tried to throw off the Invisibility Cloak. One of them finally succeeded, because she felt the fabric lift over her head and then fall away to the ground.

She blinked against the terrible green light that emitted from Voldemort himself, casting a dank glow over the cavern. She grasped her wand tightly in her hand as she moved forward, throwing Hermione back as Ginny pushed away from her. Hermione was trying to hold her back, but someone had to move forward.

"Tom Riddle!" she yelled, and Voldemort whirled around to face her, his black robes gracefully settling around him.

"How dare you speak that name, you wretched insect!" he roared, and Ginny batted away the arms of her brother to take yet another step forward.

"Because I know you, Tom, although I suppose you don't know me. I know you were once a pathetic, lying child. I found your diary, Tom Riddle, and I know you."

"You know only what I put into that diary. From what Wormtail has told me, you were quite taken in. You were nearly beaten by the mere memory of me."

"Oh, you manipulated me, but only because we had something in common. We were both alone, Tom. You had no one, and you still don't. Everyone runs from you, don't they? You can try to make the world yours, but it will deny you again and again."

"You're nothing. I hold the world in the palm of my hand. I'll take it at my whim."

"You don't have any real power. You had a thirst for power because you were afraid you weren't good enough, but I assure you, Tom, you still aren't good enough. Are you done hiding behind other names? Behind other people? What have you done, Tom, other than become a miserable failure? Harry and his parents beat you seventeen years ago, and we can do it again."

Ginny saw Hermione edging toward Harry, out of Voldemort's field of vision. Ron was slowly moving to the left. They had him triangulated and each of them could hit him easily with their shared spell. Ginny had a terrible feeling it would never be enough without Harry in the spell as well and she wasn't sure when Hermione would be able to reverse the spell immobilizing Harry without immediately drawing Voldemort's wrath.

"I would kill you now, drop your lifeless body to the ground, if I didn't want you to watch me kill your beloved Harry Potter first."

She had to buy more time. She had to distract Voldemort enough to give Hermione a chance to help Harry.

"Are you sure you want to do that? There's a spell on him, you know. Protecting him."

Voldemort seemed to rear back a bit. The idea that Harry was protected with the same sort of charm that had nearly killed him nearly two decades ago seemed to accomplish the one thing Ginny hadn't believed was possible. She had frightened Voldemort.

"You're lying," he hissed. "Who, other than the three of you, would bother to sacrifice themselves for him?"

"Don't you think it's odd that Dumbledore allowed us to face you without his help?" Ginny said, trying to sound genuinely distraught at the idea that their headmaster would have surrendered his life to protect Harry.

"Dumbledore would never have sacrificed himself for this boy," Voldemort insisted, although there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"None of us wanted it, but it was the only way, of course," Ginny said, still playing for time.

"I've already cursed him. There's no protection around him."

"It's an ancient charm," Hermione called, drawing Voldemort's attention to her. "It only blocks one spell. I'm sure you know which one we chose."

Ron caught Ginny's eye, and he made the hand signal for their spell, the one they used during D.A. meetings to create a diversion.

" _Umbra Absconditus!_ " they called, swirling their wands in synchronized ovals in front of them, then pointing to the area behind Voldemort's back.

A dark, gossamer shape formed behind the Dark Wizard, skulking its way toward him. It pulled Voldemort's attention long enough for Hermione to bend toward Harry, whisper the counter-curse for his condition, and then right herself again.

"Parlor tricks such as this," Voldemort said, violently bisecting Ginny and Ron's shadowy figure with a slice of his arm, "will save none of you."

Voldemort waved his wand and Ron was picked up, off his feet. With a single word, it was as though an invisible hand had taken him and thrown him against the far wall of the tunnel. He smashed against it with a terrible crack and his wand clattered to the ground a moment before Ron landed on top of it.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, and Voldemort continued to look at the result of his spell and cackled.

With difficulty, Ginny managed to catch Hermione's eye with a wave of her hand. She made the hand signal for their concentration and reflex enhancing spell, and then pointed quickly to both of the boys. They whispered the incantation together, almost inaudibly, and pointed their wands at Harry. They repeated the spell for Ron, casting it as quickly as they could. Voldemort continued to laugh, the horrible sound reverberating off the walls of the tunnel and stinging their ears.

Ginny hoped the spell would allow the boys to recover enough of their strength to end the confrontation once and for all. It could make Ron's pain more intense if he chose to concentrate on it, but Ginny had faith that her brother would be able to block it out long enough to finish what they'd come here to do.

As though he could read her mind, Ron chose that moment to pull himself to his feet. He began to reach for his wand, wincing as his hand dangled uselessly from his wrist. His arm was clearly broken, and Ginny gasped at the grisly sight of it. Ron shut his eyes for a moment, set his jaw, and then reached to take his wand with his left hand instead.

Harry stirred a bit, but he still didn't look as though he was ready to help them. Hermione looked helplessly at Ron, who was guarding his right arm against his body as best he could, holding his wand in front of him in his weak hand.

"So, girl," Voldemort said, turning to Hermione. "You love that creature behind me, don't you? The way you cried out his name made it all too obvious. Perhaps it would hurt him more to watch you die."

"No! Not her!" Ron cried out, rushing forward and casting a spell to disarm Voldemort.

Voldemort protected himself against Ron with a defensive shell, undulating around him visibly, a sick green, as he laughed again.

"Perhaps I should start with her. As I can't begin with Potter, I believe seeing this Muggle-born die would give me the most satisfaction."

" _Finite Incantatem_!" Ginny yelled, trying to break the protection shell around Voldemort. Ginny's spell bounced harmlessly away, Voldemort's spell still intact. Ron seemed to understand, or perhaps he thought they were beginning their attempts to break the spell keeping Voldemort alive. Either way, it didn't matter. He signaled to Ginny to try to break the spell again, and Hermione signaled back to them as well.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort boomed, and Hermione dove to the ground to avoid the bolt of light heading for her.

"Hermione!" Ron called out, helplessly.

Ginny let out the breath she was holding when she saw Hermione had successfully dodged the spell, but Hermione had clearly injured herself in the process. Blood streamed down her face from a wound on her temple, visible to Ginny as Hermione rolled onto her back. Hermione held her wand up toward Voldemort, and it was at that moment that Harry began to move again.

Ginny signaled to Harry, who nodded just a bit as he lay on the floor next to Hermione. Ginny wasn't sure that anyone else had seen him move. She raised her wand again, and she saw both Hermione and Ron move to join her.

" _Finite Incantatem_!" they yelled, and Ginny saw Ron start when he realized Harry had joined them in the casting.

Voldemort's protection shell shattered, its greenish cast disappearing with a blinding flash of white light.

"I am finished with all of you," Voldemort screamed, whirling around and pointing his wand at Ron, who stood defiantly before him.

None of them needed any hand signals. They could all feel each other. Each of them knew the moment was here.

" _Finite Incantatem_!" they screamed one final time, the ivory light from each of their wands joining where Voldemort stood.

The sound that emanated from Voldemort hit Ginny like a shock wave from an explosion, throwing her backward and blacking out her vision for a moment. The green light that had been coming from Voldemort died away, and she heard Ron cast a _Lumos_ spell so they could see what was happening.

Voldemort's screams continued to echo through the tunnels, a high-pitched, inhuman sound that burned in Ginny's ears. Ron struggled to his knees and crawled to Hermione, shielding her with his body when he reached her. Ginny could see Harry huddling into himself, covering his ears with the palms of his hands.

The terrible, hissing, screaming sound stopped as Ginny pulled herself across the tunnel. Something brushed against her shoulders as she moved, and she shuddered when she realized it was Voldemort's empty robes. She struggled away from them, feeling dirty where they'd touched her.

When she was free, her mind locked onto a singular idea as she closed the rest of the distance between herself and Harry, not caring about scraping and cutting her hands against the rough rock.

They'd done it. Hermione had been right.

Voldemort was gone.

She found Harry's face with her hands when she reached him, and he blinked up at her.

"It's done," she whispered to him, and his eyes closed with a relief so complete she couldn't imagine what he was feeling. "Thank you, Harry," she told him, and his eyes opened again and found hers.

"Why are you thanking me, Ginny? You did most of the—"

"For coming back to save me, Harry."

His face softened. "Just repaying a debt, Ginny. You've saved me, over and over again. Every time I look at you."

Ginny leaned forward to kiss him, and she felt his lips against hers, gentle and weary.

"I'm so tired, Ginny," he told her. "We should really get out of here, but I don't think I can move."

"I know," Ginny said, feeling her exhaustion overtaking her. "We really should go back to the battle."

It was the last thing she said before she collapsed forward onto his chest, fighting to maintain consciousness until the last moment, when the blackness overtook her.

* * *

"Ginny!" said a voice that sounded very far away, and she felt someone's hands on her shoulders, shaking her.

" _Ennervate_ ," said another voice, and she felt her body quivering with life in response to the spell. She raised her head, looking into the eyes of Remus Lupin, then found Hestia Jones kneeling on the ground beside him.

"Thank Merlin, Ginny!" Ron cried, and Ginny saw her three friends standing together to Professor Jones' left. Ron's arm was splinted for the moment, and the bleeding from Hermione's cut seemed to have stopped. Someone had cleaned her face but had done a quick job of it, blood still coloring the hair framing her forehead.

"You had us frightened there for a moment, Ginny," Hermione said, smiling and laughing. "We haven't been able to wake you."

Harry dropped to the ground next to her, kissing her on the cheek.

"If something had happened to you, I don't know what—" Harry broke off, whispering in her ear.

"I'll be fine," Ginny said, pulling back to look into his eyes. "What about the others?" she asked, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she realized the battle at the mouth of the caves must be over.

"The Death Eaters lost their will to fight when they felt Voldemort's destruction. They were easily rounded up after that, those who had not already fallen," Lupin explained, but Ginny saw a look of pain cross Harry's face.

"What about our side?" Ginny asked with rising panic, realizing that they couldn't possibly have escaped unscathed from such brutal combat.

"There were losses," Lupin choked out, and pressed his lips together with barely restrained emotion.

"Who!" Ginny demanded, sitting up quickly and paying for it with a dizziness that made her fall backward again. Harry caught her with the palm of his hand on her back.

"Ginny, don't," Harry pleaded. "You need time to—"

"Who!" she yelled again, drilling her stare into Lupin, who stood and faced away from her.

"Padma Patil," Lupin said, leaving a moment of silence after her name before he continued. "Her sister, Parvati, found Blaise Zabini holding off three Death Eaters, clutching Padma's lifeless body, near the end of the battle. Zabini is still unconscious. He'd taken down two of them single-handedly before he was rescued, and he collapsed soon afterward."

Ginny tried to imagine the scene and her mind couldn't create the image of Padma, dead in the arms of her boyfriend. She couldn't see it, because she couldn't allow herself to believe it was true.

"Ron, what about mum and dad? Bill, Percy, and the twins?" Ginny demanded, and she sobbed when all Ron returned to her was silence.

"Ginny, your mum and dad are fine," Hermione said, dropping to Ginny's side and taking her hand, trying to soothe her. "Bill's injured, but he's already been taken to St. Mungo's with the rest of the wounded. Percy was—he was—" Hermione tried to keep talking, but she was unable to continue as she began to cry as well.

"Your brother Percy, Ginny, was absolutely fearless," Professor Jones said, taking over from Hermione. "He returned with Reilly Carroll and told Dumbledore what happened. We knew you were all about to face Voldemort, and we decided it was time to move into the caves and find any remaining hostages. It was his information that saved the four researchers who were with you in France. They were magically bound to a wall at the rear of these caves, being tortured in an attempt to gain information from them. The Death Eaters guarding them were about to kill them because of our attack."

"What about Percy?" Ginny said, biting out each word.

"He led the group into the caves to rescue them. He was cut down with the Killing Curse as soon as they entered the torture chamber," Lupin said, his voice breaking.

Ron began to cry as well and Hermione returned to him.

"Bloody git," Ron whispered through his tears. "Running in there without a plan." Hermione brushed away his tears, supporting him as his legs seemed to fail. "I never apologized to him, Hermione. I told him I wouldn't protect him, that he was nothing to me, and he still risked his life to save us."

"He knew, Ron. He knew you loved him. He turned his back on your family, on Harry, and he knew what the ramifications were. He didn't expect you to forgive him right away. He understood," Hermione soothed, but Ron only cried harder, burying his face in her shoulder.

Tears ran down Ginny's face as well, and she hated herself for not reconciling things with Percy sooner. "Please, please," she begged, "tell me the twins are all right."

"They're both alive. Fred is perfectly fine," Harry told her, and Ginny knew he was holding something back. "They were with Percy when—when it happened. Fred told Lupin that when George saw Percy fall, he charged the Death Eater responsible. George was hit with a _Crucio_ from another Death Eater, and no one could make it to him for several minutes. He's unconscious, but they don't think he was under the spell long enough to do any lasting damage."

"Just tell me," Ginny said, worn thin at the idea of finding out about her family, her friends, one at a time. "Just tell me who else was killed."

Lupin swallowed, took a breath, and then began to speak.

"We didn't lose many, Ginny. It was better than any of us feared. However, in addition to Padma Patil and your brother, we also lost Ernie MacMillan, Anthony Goldstein, and Dean Thomas."

Ginny sobbed again, flashing on images of each of them in her mind and finding herself unable to consider them gone, never to be seen again. Harry held her, choking back tears of his own and finally giving up the fight. They clutched at each other, overcome by grief and regret.

"You need to get back to St. Mungo's," Lupin said, in a quiet and grim voice. "We need to make sure you're all okay."

"Okay?" Ginny said, laughing without mirth. "We're fine," Ginny told him. "I can do anything. But Percy, Dean, Padma—" she stumbled over the names, the list seeming impossibly long although she hadn't even finished it yet.

"Please, Ginny," Harry asked, caressing her cheek. "We can't bring them back. We need to go. Lupin's right."

Professor Jones handed Ginny a long, thin fragment of the crumbling stalactite. Ginny still cried softly against Harry's chest as she grasped what was undoubtedly about to be turned into a Portkey for them.

"All of you, please. Make sure you have a hand on that, and we'll get you out of here," Lupin told them, and Ron and Hermione complied, moving almost robotically, stoically.

" _Portus_ ," Ginny heard Lupin whisper, and the four of them whirled around for what seemed like minutes before they fell, clutching each other, in the middle of the main ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"Get these four to the fourth floor!" screamed a nearby Healer, and Ginny felt herself being levitated away with a _Mobilicorpus_ spell. She couldn't stop thinking about the people no Healer would be able to help, giving in only when the comfort of blackness came to her as she passed from consciousness.

* * *

_(Don't worry...despite the title of the chapter, this is not (quite) the end. Epilogue coming soon.)_


	23. After the End

Harry woke up in yet another hospital bed, groaning for a moment until he realized this was the last time Voldemort would be the cause of Healers hovering over him and forcing him to drink horrible potions.

"Are you up now, Harry?" Ron asked, sitting up in his bed, which was across the room from Harry's.

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting up as well. "Where are the girls? Are they all right?"

"They put them in a separate room," Ron spat, clearly annoyed. "Ginny's already come to visit. Fawned over you so much I thought I might be sick." Ron smiled at him, a familiar teasing look on his face.

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked, and felt terrible when Ron's face fell.

"I've asked and asked, but I didn't find out anything until I saw Ginny. They thought Hermione was in the best shape of all of us when we got here, but she's having difficulty staying conscious. They think it's something to do with the blow she took to her head."

"Concussion," Harry said, and realized he had to explain further when he saw Ron's confused expression. "Muggle medicine. It's a swelling in your brain you can get when you hit your head on something."

"Well, if anyone's brain is likely to swell, it's got to be Hermione's. Bloody thing is probably twice the size of mine. She'll be fine, though. They said so," Ron said, as though he were trying to convince himself. "According to Ginny, she's more upset about Reilly Carroll than anything."

"Has anyone heard anything about that? We all thought it was Amon, after Hermione realized he knew about her Portkey. Were they working together?"

"Nope," Ron said, and Harry wondered exactly how much he'd missed while he'd been unconscious. "Looks like Reilly befriended Amon the same way he did with Hermione. Reilly tricked him into talking about the Portkey."

Ron looked thoughtful, and Harry wagered that he was worrying about Hermione again.

"She'll be fine, Ron," Harry said, trying to give his friend the most supportive look he could from so far away.

"I know. I do. I just—well, I worry."

"You love her, Ron," Harry said, a part of him still amazed that his friends had managed to admit their feelings to one another. "It's natural."

"I'm going to marry her," Ron said, looking off into the distance dreamily.

"I'm sure you will. I've always thought you two would—"

"No, I mean, I'm _going_ to marry her. Not right away, but I've asked her, and she's said yes."

"When?" Harry gaped, and he realized he already knew the answer. "Wait. I saw the two of you talking before the battle, at the cave. I thought you were arguing at first, but she kissed you. You asked her then."

Ron looked down at his bedcovers, twisting them in his hands. "I don't know how I'll ever afford the ring. I'd transfigure one if I could, but everyone knows transfigured rings are rubbish. If Kingsley meant what he said, I'll be in Auror training for three years, and I don't think the pay is that great at first." Ron frowned, considering the possibilities before him. "I can't wait three years to marry her. I'd marry her right now if she'd have me."

Harry saw the answer right away, but he knew Ron wouldn't like it.

"Listen, Ron. I'm still here because of both of you. You and Hermione have saved my backside more times than I can count. Let me buy it for you both. I don't care if you ever pay me back, but you can, if it makes you feel any better."

The explosion coming from the general direction of Ron's bed was exactly as Harry expected it. Ron's response was a combination of sputtering, stammering, and gasps of breath, none of which produced an actual sentence or completed thought.

"Ron, I have a pile of Galleons in a vault at Gringotts that I didn't earn. Some of them were left to me by my parents, and the rest were from Sirius. Your parents have taken me in, looked after my best interests, and fought alongside me in the most dangerous battle of our time. Ron, for Merlin's sake, I've eaten enough of your parents' food to cover the down payment."

"My family has never taken anything from you, Harry, and I'm not about to start now," Ron told him, red-faced. Harry wasn't sure whether it was from anger, embarrassment, or a combination of the two.

"You wouldn't be taking anything. You'd be accepting a wedding gift. And what you've said isn't strictly true. Didn't you ever wonder where the twins got the money to open the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes storefront in Hogsmeade?"

"They didn't!" Ron said, scandalized. Harry realized this wasn't the right time to also inform Ron that the dress robes he'd received from the twins for Christmas two years ago were also paid for by Harry.

"They did, and I couldn't be more glad. They've taken that money and made a real go of it. They paid it back to me, even though I never wanted them to, with interest. Come on, Ron," he urged, wishing Ron could see past his pride and accept a little help for a change. "Can you honestly say you wish I hadn't made the joke shop possible? They're a success. I couldn't be more proud that I had a small part in making that happen."

"I'm sure they're grateful, Harry, but that doesn't mean I'll let you buy my future wife her wedding ring."

"How much do you figure saving my life was worth, Ron? If it had been your job to plan that battle, how much do you think the Ministry would have paid you?"

"Harry," Ron protested, apparently running out of excuses.

"There's nothing that would make me happier. When we get out of here, we can take Ginny with us and she can help us pick something out. Think of it as a loan. I just want to see the two of you happy."

"We haven't decided anything yet, Harry," Ron warned, "but I wouldn't mind having you and Ginny with me, just to look." 

Ron held Harry's stare for a moment, and Harry shook his head, relenting.

"All right, Ron. We'll go so you can get some ideas."

"Perhaps you can get some ideas too, Harry," Ron said, a look of wry innocence gracing his features. "Ginny's sure to give away what sort of ring she might want."

"Ron, are you insinuating that I should ask your sister, who is not yet of age and still has a year left at Hogwarts, to marry me?"

"Not now, Harry. But maybe someday," Ron said, a hopeful look on his face. "Listen, I know you love each other. Not to mention that I found out yesterday, when she came to get us after waking up to find you missing, that she's spent at least one night in your room," Ron smiled as Harry blushed furiously at this. "Listen, I'm not upset, so don't worry. It's just, well—when I marry Hermione, she and Ginny will be sisters. If you marry my sister, it'll make you my brother. You've always felt like one, but that will make it official."

"Then will you please let me buy my sister her wedding ring?" Harry said, ducking as Ron threw a pillow across the room at him.

"Harry, will you let it alone?" Ron said, laughing. "Honestly."

* * *

They recovered one by one and returned to school. Ginny was first, followed by Ron and Harry a few days later. Hermione finally joined them the following week, her head injury finally healed. Once they were all reunited back at school, they were all relieved to receive an owl from Mrs. Weasley, telling them that George had gone to convalesce at the Burrow, and was doing much better.

When Harry attempted to return Dumbledore's old wand to him, Dumbledore asked him to keep it and gave Harry a wink. There were a million things Harry wanted to tell him, but with that one wink Harry felt as though his headmaster already knew everything Harry wanted to say.

As for the wand, Harry wasn't sure what he'd do with it. Surely, someday, there would be someone to pass it down to. Harry considered with a gulp the possibility of having a child someday, and he realized he already had an unbelievable eleventh birthday present up his sleeve.

The final bit of business Harry saw to immediately upon his return to school was sending a letter to his aunt. He took great pains to arrange it to be sent by Muggle post, only because he knew Aunt Petunia would prefer it that way. He spent hours staring at the parchment before he was able to start writing, unable to decide how much he should tell her. In the end, he told her only what she would be most interested to hear; Voldemort was gone, and she, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley were finally safe.

It was a month later as they sat in the common room, late one May evening, having yet another party celebrating the defeat of Voldemort. Much to Hermione's consternation, the house elves had been working overtime to provide food and drinks for celebration after celebration. Dobby had tried to convince her that none of the elves minded, as they were as happy as any wizard that Voldemort had been defeated.

"To Harry!" Colin Creevy yelled over the din, holding his glass aloft, and a cheer went around the room.

"No, no!" Harry called, waving his hands in front of himself. "To Ginny, Ron, and Hermione!" he called, smiling at his friends as they blushed. "And to all of you who came with us. You made it possible for us to get to Voldemort in the first place," Harry said, feeling an immense wash of satisfaction when no one shuddered at Voldemort's name.

"To Dean!" Hermione said, holding her glass up again, looking a little tearful.

"To all the signatures he's forged for us!" Parvati said, a tear rolling down her face.

"He wanted to be an illustrator," Seamus said, his shoulders slumping forward as he bowed his head.

"He would have been brilliant," Neville added.

Harry felt Ginny shaking in his arms and he felt a stab of anger at Voldemort that any of them had to die.

"To the West Ham Football Club!" Ron called, and there was a moment of silence before someone began to laugh.

Harry looked around for a moment and found the laughter was coming from Seamus.

"He would have liked that," Seamus said, wiping tears away from his eyes as he continued to laugh. Ginny joined him first, but soon everyone was laughing, thinking of their favorite memories of Dean. Harry shut his eyes and he could almost imagine Dean there with them, holding up a banner he'd made for the celebration and adding to the cheer with his humor and easygoing manner.

When the laughter died away, Hermione looked from Ron to Ginny before she quietly added, "To Percy."

"To Percy," those who'd been at school with Percy murmured, echoing Hermione's words.

Harry let Ginny go for a moment so she and Ron could share a hug, and he could see that the weight of guilt Ron had felt for not forgiving Percy while he'd had the chance still hung over him.

"He wouldn't want us to cry," Ron whispered to Ginny, not looking entirely convinced himself.

"Oh, when did we listen to Percy?" Ginny said, a hint of a smile forming through her tears.

"To Padma," Seamus said, putting his arm around Parvati's shoulders and supporting her. They whispered something to each other as everyone else repeated Padma's name, and Harry was glad to see Parvati took some comfort from it.

One by one, the Gryffindors headed to their dormitories, finally leaving only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry looked over at the glasses littering the table on one side of the room, recalling the toasts that were made. He smiled, deciding the best one was Ron's, to the West Ham football club. Dean would have liked that.

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Ginny asked him, snuggling closer in to his chest.

"Dean," he answered, honestly. "All of them, really. Padma, Ernie, Anthony." He paused before mentioning the final person they'd lost that day. Ginny seemed to avoid talking about her brother, and Harry hated to see the sad, faraway look on her face whenever his name was mentioned, like when they'd toasted his memory earlier. "And Percy," he said, looking hesitantly at her.

"You know, he always wanted to be special. He always wanted to stand out. There's so many of us, really. A gaggle of Weasleys. It's easy to get lost in the mass of red hair and shabby clothes. He's done it, hasn't he? No one will ever forget him."

"Of course we won't, Ginny. He was amazing."

"I loved that prat. Even when we weren't speaking."

"I know. That's why I love you, Ginny."

"Oh, _that's_ why you love me? I thought it was because of my flaming hair and legendary temper."

"That too," Harry said, chuckling, and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Aren't they lovely?" Ginny asked, gesturing across the room.

Ron and Hermione were on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Hermione was lying back on Ron's chest, a book spread over her lap so she could study for their upcoming N.E.W.T. examinations. Ron's head was bent so he could stare openly at her as he brushed his fingers through her hair, a goofy grin on his face. He bent to whisper something to her from time to time, and Hermione would smile and shush him, kissing him before returning to her reading.

"I saw you talking to Blaise this afternoon," Ginny said, changing the subject before he could answer. "How is he?"

"He's doing as well as can be expected. I still can't believe what he did to Draco."

"Draco should never have called him a traitor to Slytherin, and bringing Padma into it was inexcusable. You can't expect to tell someone their girlfriend deserved to die and not end up on the wrong side of that person's wand."

"Blaise said Dumbledore took it easy on him," Harry told her, running his finger over Ginny's earlobe and thrilling a little as he felt her react.

"Harry, are you ready for our Potions N.E.W.T.?" Hermione asked, batting Ron's hand away as he tried to cover her mouth, but smiling at him as she did it. "Ron!" she protested.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I promised myself I wouldn't let you talk about N.E.W.T. exams or revisions tonight," Ron told her with a devilish grin.

"As ready as I can be. It's tomorrow, after all," Harry answered, earning a frown from Ron. "Of course, if I were Ron, I wouldn't have to worry. No one's told me I'm a lock for Auror training regardless of my test results."

Ron blushed as Hermione tutted Harry.

"Oh, don't encourage him not to study, Harry. We really should—" Hermione began.

"Get some rest, so we're fresh tomorrow morning," Ron finished for her.

"That wasn't at all what I was about to say," Hermione said, trying to sound annoyed.

"Come on, Hermione. Even your brilliant mind will work better on a good night's sleep. Let's go to bed."

"All right," Hermione answered, rolling her eyes. "Perhaps you're right." She shut her book and pulled herself to her feet, looking expectantly at Ron.

"I'll be right behind you. I need to talk to Harry for a moment."

"I'll be waiting," Hermione told him, giving him a quick kiss. She wished Harry and Ginny a good night before she left, and Ron looked longingly after her until she'd disappeared up the staircase.

"Listen, Harry," Ron began, after he was sure Hermione was out of earshot. "I got an owl from that shop in Hogsmeade. They said they want me to have that ring we found. Something about payment for saving everyone from Voldemort."

"Oh, Ron!" Ginny squealed happily. "That lovely one with the sapphires and the pearls, in the platinum setting?"

"If you're sure she'd like it," Ron said, uncertainly.

"She'll faint at the sight of it," Ginny told him. "You absolutely must accept their offer."

"I can't. I just can't take it. I offered to pay them what it cost to make it. It's just, well, I don't have it." Ron couldn't pull his eyes from the floor. "I told myself I'd never do this, Harry, but if I could borrow—"

"Whatever it costs, Ron. I'll contact Gringotts tomorrow," Harry said, beaming at his friend.

"I'm paying it back. If you tell me what sort of interest Fred and George paid you, I'll match it," Ron told him, still looking a bit uncertain.

"Anything you want, Ron. I don't care," Harry said, and he and Ginny stood up and each hugged Ron in turn. "I couldn't be happier for you, mate."

"Thanks, Harry," Ron said, glancing toward the stairs. "She's waiting," he explained, and took the steps two at a time on a run, making a terrible racket as he went.

Ginny giggled next to Harry, and Harry pulled her into his arms as he, too, began to laugh. It was one of the first genuine moments of joy he'd felt since their return from the caves, and it felt indescribably good. Not as good as Ginny felt in his arms, but that was a tough one to beat.

"Come on, Harry. We should get some sleep as well," Ginny said, pulling at his hand.

"Wait," Harry said, knowing he could never sleep until he asked her the question he'd told himself again and again needed to wait.

"What is it, Harry?" she said, smiling up at him in that simple, unassuming way that belied the beautifully complex and intelligent woman she was.

"Do you know what I was going to tell you before you stopped me that night, before we went to the caves?"

"No," she breathed, her voice a little shaky. "We don't have to talk about that now. We're both here, and we made it through all right."

"It wasn't just that I love you, Ginny, although I do, more than I can possibly tell you," Harry persisted, wondering if he really had the courage to continue.

"I love you too, Harry," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted you to know, if anything happened to me, that I'd intended to marry you someday," he said, looking deeply into her eyes as she began to blink away tears.

"Harry, I—"

"You don't have to say anything now," he said, quickly. "You still have a year's school left. Your mother would murder me if I jeopardized that. I understand that you may need more time than that. It's just, once someone knows you as well as you know me, you'd eventually see it in my eyes even if I didn't tell you. The moment you're ready, Ginny, you let me know. I know what I want. That ring, the one that made you gasp before you told Ron it wasn't the kind of thing Hermione would like, it's in my vault, waiting for you. It's yours, the day that you want it."

"Harry, you great prat," Ginny told him, tears streaming down her face. "I don't have any doubts. I do need some time to finish school, sort out what I'll spend my life doing. Whatever it is, though, it will be with you."

Harry picked her up and held her against him, swinging her around as they both laughed. His life stretched ahead of him now with no prophecies to tell him what his future might be. It would be what he made it, and he knew now, without a doubt, that it would include Ginny.

* * *

_Author's notes:_ I would be remiss if I didn't blab a bit, here at the end of this mess. First, I need to thank my beta, kjcp. She's absolutely great, and not just because she saved me from hideous mistakes such as a reference to Apparition on the Hogwarts grounds. Honestly, I'm trying to think of another story idea just so she can beta it.

Next, I'd like to thank everyone who's read, especially those of you who were kind enough to let me know you were enjoying the story as we were posting it. Every review made it easier to keep writing, especially through the chapters whose outlines seemed to stretch on forever in my imagination.

Also, I'd like to mention two websites which are invaluable to any Harry Potter fan, especially anyone interested in writing in the Harry Potter universe. The first is the Harry Potter Lexicon, which has catalogued anything and everything that is Harry Potter related. The spell encyclopedia alone should gain the webmaster a Harry Potter merit badge. The second website I found helpful was Veritaserum, useful not only for factual information, but for being fun to surf while I was procrastinating.

Speaking of procrastinating, I would also like to acknowledge the Spider Solitaire program. There are two passages in particular that I formed in my mind while I was moving playing cards around on my screen. I won't mention which ones they are, but I can't read back over them without seeing spades and hearts in my mind's eye.

As always, my apologies for my poor Latin. I invented a few spells with the help of another handy website, the UBC SunSITE Latin-English dictionary. 

I would also like to note that the chess game played between Ginny and Harry is a real game, begun with what is known as the "Four Knights Opening", until Harry moves his bishop instead of the fourth knight. What follows is a successful attempt to counter the four knights opening, leading to Harry's checkmate, and of course, declarations of undying love.

Finally, a big thank you to J.K. Rowling for creating this fascinating series and sparking all of our imaginations. I used to wonder how she could possibly write books so long, with so much detail, until I borrowed Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione from her for awhile. Now I understand. If only all of you could see all the stuff I cut out—there's an entire sub-plot that bit the dust because it didn't really add much to the flow of the story. JKR has, quite simply, created characters and a world that are so extraordinary that they just demand to be described in loving detail, and I hope it doesn't bother her too much that we borrow them from time to time.

Thanks again for reading!

_Amanda_


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